


To There And Back And Elsewhere

by E_Liberty



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angry Thorin Oakenshield, Bar Room Brawl, Bathing/Washing, Bilbo Baggins is Not Oblivious, Camping, Chapters Edited Since Posting, Confused Dwarves, Cooking, Draw Me Like One of Your French Girls, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarves Being Assholes, Elves, Gandalf Meddles, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Grumpy Thorin, Hangover, Healers, Horseback Riding, Hungover Dwarves, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Inn Crawl, Khuzdul, Mix of book and films, Mosaic, Orc Hunting Pack, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Original Female Character, Poor Bilbo, Pub Crawl, Rain, Riding, Riding into Battle, Rivendell | Imladris, Self-Indulgent, Swearing, Troll Camp, Troll Hoard, Wet Clothing, Worried Dwarves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 39,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27908386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E_Liberty/pseuds/E_Liberty
Summary: Thorin thrusted the contract at Bilbo, slapping it on the hobbit's abdomen in an unnecessarily harsh manner. Without a choice, other then dropping the paper, Bilbo took a lose hold, stepping away from the table to take a gander at the beautiful calligraphy that danced upon its tarnished surface. His eyes began to wander, taking in the terms he  would follow if, and only if, he signed. The words became to tense for his poor heart as he read on, so when another knock on his front door rang out into the hallway Bilbo jumped, contract in hand quickly forgotten. "Who could this be now?" thought the hobbit, as he stared at the now menacing door.This is a retelling of "The Hobbit", an attempt to mix both the films and the book, adding a dash of feminine charm to the testosterone filled party in the form of a half-dwarven huntress whose only goal during this quest is to return her late fathers ashes to Erebor, his home.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	1. When strangers come knocking, we invite them in for tea.

**Author's Note:**

> Languages Spoken:  
> Common- Normal  
> Khuzdul- Bold & Italic  
> Sindarin- Italic & Crossed out  
> Spoken not common language translated- Italic

There was a knocking on Bilbo's front door for the 6th time that night, blast Gandalf for inviting 13 dwarfs into his family home! Who could this be now, having already a supposed party? Speaking of the party, they looked to each other bewildered at the curt knuckles against the thick wood.

Kili, the younger nephew of the party leader cocked his head "I thought you said our kin refused to join us Uncle?" He was now, along with 11 other dwarves and Bilbo staring at Thorin, would be King under the mountain.

With a grumble and a slow nod "That's what I said. No kin will join our quest" he took a narrowed glance to the Wizard perched under the low beam, "no one else should be joining us, unless-" he turned, accusingly glaring at the Grey Wizard "Gandalf, did you tell others of this endeavour?" The growl rumbled through the dark-haired covered throat.

Gandalf sighed "perhaps, master Thorin, I did invite another to join our quest, though, their specific skill set will make your journey far easier for you and your kin and perhaps settle our burglar’s nerves" he quirked a small smile to Bilbo, who was currently staring like a dumbfounded fish out of water. The dwarf paced, taking a grip on his chair "Gandalf, who else did you tell of our journey? How many others?!" His fist pounded the table with a rather hollow thump.

The knocking returned, with a gulp Bilbo made his way to the door. "G-Gandalf, do you want to greet them?". The wizard shook his head and chuckled a "let them in my fellow" whist Thorin sat back down, glaring at the wizard. It took a moment for the hobbit to gather himself, with a clearing of his throat and a roll of his shoulders he took the handle. And with a final exhale he pulled the door open to the stranger outside his door. His mind flashed many alternatives to who would be standing there, another dwarf? A wizard? A human soldier? An elven scholar? another hobbit perhaps, but alas, as fast as his mind brought these fictional possibilities forth, they vanished as the reality made his heart sink ever so slightly.

Outside his door was a hooded figure about a head taller than himself, an almost black hood covered their head, shadow of the night blanketing their face, their shoulders wide and square. The cloak sewn to the hood bellowed, covering the stranger’s body other than the pair of mud caked boots. Bilbo gulped again, staring at this whisper of a figure in front of him, almost wincing as a gloved hand emerged. Said leather clad hand emerged holding a bottle of what looked like wine, which was then held out to Bilbo. The petrified hobbit took the bottle, almost shaking as the hand retreated to then go for the hood of its owner. What monstrous form could lurk underneath a hood and fully covered body, no sight of skin nor hair. The hood came down and Bilbo blinked. That's all he could do as he took in the stranger.

With a clearing of their throat the stranger smiled a wide warm smile, "I hope you like red, it was the only thing I could buy on short notice, also, if Gandalf is here, this will hopefully replenish what he has downed this clear evening. Ire Trotter, at your service" and with that, she bowed, her bronze locks spilling from the cuff of her collar, her pale skin warmed by the candle light illuminating Bilbo's hobbit hole.

By the time she rose Bilbo had stepped aside to welcome her in, "Bilbo Baggins, of Bagend, thank you for the erm wine, but why?" He holds the bottle close now, praying the dwarves hadn't taken scent to it.

His hopes were true, but alas the age-old wizard had, "Mistress Trotter, you made it, I was worried you had lost your way" by now Gandalf towered both people by the door, none too discreetly eyeing up the bottle in Bilbo's clutches.

Ire chuckled, “Thirsty Gandalf? Perhaps a man-sized flagon would quench you?" She pulled another bottle from under her cloak. Bilbo wondered how the new stranger had fitted two bottles of red wine on her person, but he was not one to ask, for a couple of reasons, number one, it seemed rather rude to ask a lady where she stashed booze, number two, she was another unwelcome tag along, but at least this one seemed easier on the eyes compared to the rather rugged lot running rampant in his dining room. She looked like a beardless dwarf at first glance, but she must of had some height over even the biggest one in the party, but her skin was too flawless to be of dwarven descent, it looked much like how the books described elvish skin, yet her build and height lent more to dwarf, perhaps she was half and half, though once again, Bilbo would not ask.

Gandalf smirked, his amused expression making his old eyes twinkle. "That would be gladly appreciated my girl, now, do come in, you have company to greet and a fire to warm yourself by" he gestured with his pipe holding hand for her to cross the threshold. And with a nod and grin she does, almost does.

She first took off her boots, or at least one before hopping in, balancing on the other to struggle the other off without a speck of mud reaching Bilbo's already mucky floor. "Do you have a place for me to leave these for now? I can keep them outside if it's a bother-" she still holds them outside, as if there very presence inside Bilbo's home would offend him.

Slightly confused by the extreme action he shook his head "Just by the door if you wish- on the inside is fine! Your company has all but destroyed my flooring already" he brooded slightly at the dwarf’s actions. With a nod and boots were carefully placed as the door was shut. Gandalf returned to the table of rowdy dwarves with his new bottle hidden behind his sleeve.

As Ire fixed her clothes the Grey wizard introduced her to the party, Bilbo stood in the hallway holding his wine, still confused and irked about the events of the evening. The tarnished silver clip that fastened her cloak together unbuckled with difficulty, revealing a heavily weapon carrying body, a short sword, a broad sword, a bow and full quiver, a few knives strapped to her legs and a leather satchel brimming at the seams. With a nervous chuckle she diligently unbuckled, unclipped and untied all that consumed her leaving a much less broad body, more inclined with a curvy human, though her movements were graceful and not at all like her first impression. "That's a lot of gear you have there" the hobbit pointed out, unsure of anything anymore.

With a sigh of relief as all the weight was removed from her shoulders Ire nodded in agreement, "Aye master Baggins, one can never be too prepared out on the road, though I am carrying a gift for my sibling" she held up the broad sword still sheathed. "I'm primarily an archer, a hunting skill, but if it calls for it, I know I can swing a blade well enough to escape with my life" she set the sword down with a fond smile and care with her touch. During a closer inspection of his new acquaintance Bilbo realized she must have had some Dwarf in her. The braids and silver cuffs woven into her locks made that more obvious, it was rather similar to the men in the room next to them. It was as Ire raked her left hand through her hair did, he realized the left side of her head had been shorn, much like you would an over grown dog or perhaps a sheep for its wool. So, she wasn’t as perfect as she first seemed. Perfect isn’t the right word here, intact. There was more to this hunter then her smiles and what seemed like generosity.

It was as she refastened her belt around her tunic did Gandalf call to them both to re-join. "See my fellows, I give you our guide" and once again Bilbo felt the migraine that was a one and dozen dwarves talking over each other return.

The party went silent when the "guide" came into view. It was then Gloin, the copper haired dwarf, slapped a callous hand on the large wooden table "You can't be serious Gandalf?" He nudged his brother. Oin looked to his younger brother, holding his hearing aid (a tarnished silver horn) to his ear. The dwarf cleared his throat "That’s a woman! She should be home caring for her berns" He exclaimed. By the gods he was serious, Ire’s face twitched, holding her “friendly face” in place rather the explain to the misogynistic man exactly what this “woman” could do. His standing faltered, taking a seat crossing his wide arms over his chest nodding to himself.

Bilbo stared as the drama once again unfolded. Nori, the “star headed” one, stood now "This lass doesn’t even have a beard! Have you seen Kili, he’s finally got more facial hair then someone! There’s not a hair on her!" The brunette pointed between Kili and Ire as if this would have strengthened his argument. Gandalf raised a brow. Thorin looked unamused.

The dark-haired son of Dis threw a rather whiney “Oi!” into the current discussion as it turned into a debate that grew in volume and insults flew.

Dwalin, the tattoo covered warrior click his neck, sitting back in his bespoke crafted chair, his arms also crossed in a manner similar to Gloin’s, though his bare muscles flexed as his hands clenched on his rather ragged short sleeves. “Is she even Dwarf? Looks like I could snap your “guide” in half with my pinkies” his rough war-torn voice gruff from his years of battle cries rumbled.

It seemed Thorin agreed with his best fighter, elbows sat on the table, his fingers entwined holding up his bearded jaw. “We’ve no need of this “woman”’ he practically spat, “We have no need for a human. No help will come from men” his piercing eyes stared at the map on the table, choosing to study it in detail then look at the useless stranger.

Gandalf took a breath, reminding himself to congratulate Ire on her ability of patients, though by the way the veins rose from her skin, it was wearing thin, “Now now, Mistress Trotter is the most well-travelled I could find to lead you all safely to the mountain-” Rudely, the old wizard was cut off.

Thorin turned to glare at the wizard, then tossing his eyes to size up the supposed 15th member, “I have no need of you. ‘ _menu shirumund_ ’ (you are beardless (a dwarvish insult) be gone with you”. His eyes narrowed, as if he was asking her to fight back, thought she just stood there, fists clenched mind you, but not fighting.

Bilbo being the master of this hole had had enough of such talk to a guest, though unexpected, let alone wanted and to speak to a lady with such a tone, he had had it with these confounded rude dwarves, “Now see here-” he began, but was cut off by a gentle gloved hand taking rest on his tense shoulder.

Ire’s face had shifted now, from an expression that one could describe as killer, the face of the person who wanted to rip your throat out, to an oddly serene look, and effortlessly she said as softly as she could “ _Men baruk vel menu vazr an morag_ (my axe will make friends with your face)”. A sweet smile now painted her lips as the entire table gasped at her words. Bilbo, not knowing what she said, assumed perhaps the dwarves were shocked at the use of their language, he certainly was.

There was a feral growl from across the table as Bifur sneered “ _ **How Dare You Talk Too Our King Like That**_!”, It was obvious the level of loyalty between the men before her, and now having sworn at their king in what seemed to be the first thing she had said to any of them, perhaps that was not a good idea. Bofur held his cousin’s arm, whispering to him in an attempt to calm him down.

She had to fix this and by the pleading look of Gandalf fast. Right hand coming to lay on her chest she took a deep bow, praying to the gods that they would let this house stay peaceful, for the sake of Bilbo at the very least. Once again, choosing to speak in Khazdul she addressed The King of the mountain. “ _ **You offer me insult, Thorin son of Thrain, so of Thror. Is it not custom to reply in such a manner?**_ If we can please be pleasant, I shall introduce myself. I am Ire, Eldest child of Glorlin, Tinkers-kin of Erebor” She rose to stand, arms held behind her hips, resting on the curve of her back.

The mountain king was perplexed, this creature, whom insulted him so, in front of his men, in his tongue was indeed dwarf? And a daughter of his people? …If this story held true it would raise her favour, not by much, but at least he could accept her knowing that blood in her veins had meaning to the Lonely Mountain. His features softened slightly, “You are a decedent of my people? From where do you hail?” he slunk back to his brooding air.

Ire, pleased she had now calmed the grumpy king to be, changed stance to be more casual. “Rohan” she answered simply. A human settlement, this seemed to displease Thorin by the way his brow creased. “My father chose to head south after the desolation of Dale and the loss of the mountain. He was a lowly tinker, an inventor, he found a demand with the humans so took up residency in a smithy. You are right, I have no beard as you all do, but as a half dwarf in a human settlement shaving kept me from prejudice, masquerading as a human child” her dark eyes took to the floor, “I wish to see my fathers’ home”. Looking up to see the table, she could not judge where their minds wandered, but she hoped, they would indulge her wish. There was murmurs and mutterings as the Oakensheild party processed the information, indiscreet judging glances stole many looks. When they followed Thorin’s silent command to hush, the huntress had to hold back the urge to swallow.

Balin spoke this time, seeming the party diplomat, “Where is your father if I may ask? Would he care to join us?” his warm tone calming her as everyone sat on the edge, indeed eager to hear about this strange half blood.

With a quick intake of air, whistling through her teeth, knowing full well they would not like the answers she held, “I’m sure he would have loved too”, Balin parroted a ‘ _would have_ ’ quietly, gathering where this was heading, “He is… My father past naught but 5 months ago…” she announced, hands coming to rest at her sides, clenching and relaxing in a nervous manner. “I… I am here to do as Gandalf asks… Though I carry precious cargo for the Mountain. My father’s last wishes were to be returned home” she looked to Thorin rather than the table now “If you will have me, I shall take you all to Erebor as Gandalf wishes, though my own priority is to take _**Adad**_ home…”. She was vulnerable now, a fool to show weakness, but in this moment, it seemed to lie in her favour.

With a deep exhale Thorin nodded "alright, she can join us. But if I get any sense of alternatives, I will not hesitate to leave her where she stands" his threat lingered in the air, making sure Ire knew he was not going to be merciful if he found any reason to make her his enemy.

The rest of the party looked to each other than bellowing laughter once again spilled into the warm atmosphere of the hobbit hole they all congregated in. Even Gandalf nodded with a wicked glistening to his old knowing eyes. "She is the best at what she does Thorin, trust me, she will be an asset to the company" he mused to the king under the mountain.

Ire cleared her throat "You see no ill will from me, I am here as Gandalf asks of me" she said with a service man’s smile.

Balin chuckled, pulling out the contact "and what exactly does our wizard ask?" He flicked a bundle of paper in his hand, a contract it seemed "we need to include your services and have the papers in order" he was charming like an elderly man, sat cosy in his arm chair before a lit fire during a late November night.

The wizard grinned his wise old grin "as I said master dwarf, she is our guide, from Bagend to the Mountain she will lead the way" he mused, leaning as far back as the confined space would let him.

Dwalin eyed the half-blood "we have no need for a Guide when we know the route ourselves, how else did we end up with our kin in the blue mountains way over west" he pointed out.

Oin nodded, listening intently though his aid "Aye! It may have been a while since we left but we do know how to get back, Gandalf we have no need of the lass as a guide, but seems right to get her father back". Now the others pressed too, a concoction of "We know how to read a map" And "has the land changed so much since?" And alternative but similar remarks flew.

That was until Bofur stood, “How exactly are we taking Grolrin to the mountain, I remember him being rather hefty not as much as Bombur has become but still, to carry a body that long-” as he twisted his braid Ire shook her head.

Clasping her fists together, she swung on her feet much like a child “He was cremated, we gave him a pyre funeral with ~~_Amil_~~ so they could leave together, though she wished to go back to her home too” she rambled, clicking her tongue, she hastily corrected herself “with **_Amad_**! To leave with _**Amad**_!” Bilbo said the foreign words to himself, hoping he knew what she was saying but still confused by this new langue “Mum, _**Amad**_ is mum, _**Adad**_ is dad” she lent down to whispered to him.

He nodded; thankful he was following somewhat. Bofur had grown board of playing with his hair and cocked his head to the left “So if your old man was Grolrin of Rohan, the traveling Tinker that came to gather resources from the Blue mountain at least twice a year; I guess that makes you the wee _nathith_ (daughter) that would accompany him everywhere, glued to his side if I remember right?” his grin was like a cat that ate all the cream and then made a litter box of your favourite boots straight after.

A rush of blood pinched her cheeks, flushing with embarrassment at his words “I was not ‘wee’! I was simply a child” she argued in an almost pouty manner, she was no longer the “ _wee nathith_ ” that the hatted man spoke of.

Ah, he hit a cord and by the redness of her face, he could hit some more, “You were rather small, I remember you trying to lift a silver ingot and the little scream you made when you split the seam in your leggings” Bombur snorted, plump face beaming with glee remembering the seam splitting incident.

A flash of recognition shone in Ire’s hazel eyes, “Oh no, it’s you!” she exclaimed rather over the top, “The minor always covered in coal, I assumed you would have bright hair like your brother since you were constantly coated. Amazing that that mop is natural” she jeered.

A false gasp of shock and a roll of the wrist led his hand to sit on his chest, shaking his head “Oh aye! This is all natural, just as Mahal wished” his grin, hand now stroking himself, before he was yanked down by a tutting Bifur.

The men joked and laughed mainly taking jabs at Bofur’s ego, then each other. In the mayhem the topic got onto the survivors of Erebor and the tale once again was told, now this time an emphasis was made on the fire and fangs. With the mention of dragons and Bofur’s lovely little description of what it's like to be taken from this earth by dragon fire Bilbo's soft heart could not take the idea, fainting.

Acting quick Ire caught him before his head could impact the rug below. "Well done mister Bofur, keep it for the campfire would you" she berated.

"What?" He shrugged, "he had the right to know what happens if Smaug catches him Tinkers-kin" he pointed at her with the pipe.

She shook her head "aye, I may be Tinkers-kin but at least I'm not a ram humper" there was a gasp from some of the others in the back and laughter from others.

Bofur gipped "oh I may be a ram humper but at least I have a beard" he stroked his to prove his point.

Ire scoffs "I shave, part of my hygiene, might want to look into it, there’s a magical thing called soap, use it next time you happen to be in a body of water" she quipped.

Bofur stared for a second before laughing "you have grown sharper as well as taller Ire. A lady not so much" he leered with a chuckle.

Ire snorted "I don’t need to be a lady, defiantly not around you" now she was pulling the hobbit up to move him to a comfy chair to rest in. There was a few whistle and cheers from the rest of the crowd as she slunk off deeper into the hobbit hole to find Bilbo his chair to place him into. She hurried back to point at the hat wearing dwarf "And that wasn't a comment on me being a _men calie_! (a loose woman)" She squawked before heading back to watch Bilbo.

And the jeers started up again as she stormed off down the hall. Well that was not how she wanted to be introduced to the party, especially not the leader of the company, no way would she seem respectable now. The evening soon past into a star blanketed night sky where the dwarves sung and drank to their hearts content as Gandalf attempted to persuade his burglar hobbit to reconsider the offer, handing him the papers Balin pulled out just before Ire knocked. Bilbo denied of course, deeming his cosy life in the Shire worth more than a reward of gold and glory, he placed the contact on the side table closest to him, with full purpose of forgetting its existence and more the likely use it as kindling for his hearth.

Ire left the wizard and his halfling to discuss on the matter further. She was hoping to scrounge some food from Mr Bilbo's store if the 13 had left her any, by the looks of the large round dwarf, Bombur, it would more than likely be empty. She tiptoed past the joyful lot into the pantry to find crumbs. Her stomach groaned, as did she. At least there was drink in the cask- she twisted the nozzle to find it dry. Well that's what she got for being late. Looking around once more, thoroughly, unlike her quick glances before she saw a cupboard that looked rather untouched. Hope swelled in her chest and the growls of her stomach grew as she dashed to this little wooden door oasis. Mouth salivating, nose twitching for any smells to give up the presence behind the doors, opening it to find a large China plate, again, filled with crumbs.

The rumble from her abdomen grew painful this time, oh what a pickle. Gandalf promised food, so she had not bothered eating before arriving in Bagend. Not expecting the party to have cleared the place completely either her rations were enough to get her to Bree to replenish. If she gnawed now, she would only face the same situation out in the cold. With a whine she fell to her knees from the crouch she had previously held herself in. "Dammit" she cursed, throwing her head back, eyes screwed shut, trying to ignore the growing pangs.

The airy laugh from the pantry doorway spooked her from her pity party. "Hungry?" Asked a cocky voice. Her eyes shot open faster than an elf could lose an arrow as she scurried back to her feet to face none other than the blonde prince Fili, he found himself leaning against the frame, smiling rather fondly to himself, his cheeks kissed by the mead he had been drinking like water. "Your goblin girl" he chuckled, keeping his rather relaxed demeanour, "You used to play with me and my brother from time to time" the blonde prince elaborated, pushing himself off the frame to step into the pantry to attempt to fill up his now empty flagon. When he realized too, it was dry he clicked his tongue and knocked the barrel with a callous knuckle, as if his tapping would magically refill the damn thing.

The huntress, too embarrassed about being caught starving said nothing as she awkwardly rocked on her socked feet, until her stomach once again made itself known, alerting the prince of her presence once more. He looked to her shocked for a moment before his expression shifted to amusement as he laughed. "Come now, we should get something in you" he managed between his gleeful giggles.

Ire scoffed and crossed her sleeved arms against her stomach, willing the damn organ to stay quiet until Fili walked away. "I'm fine, really. Just a tad peckish is all, I was hoping master Baggins would have had something for me to snack on" she kept her line of sight on the tiled floor below, not daring to look the once little boy she knew to his grown-up face. “I am not a goblin, troll tiddler” she muttered, looking anywhere but him.

Said "troll tiddler" was not having it, walking up to her and slinging a muscular arm around her shoulders, "come on Goblin, we can ask Mr Baggins if he has anything else stashed around, I know I'm asking where the spare barrel is!" He practically cheered the end of his declaration, squeezing her shoulders ever so slightly in a playful manner.

The brunette shook her head in a no motion "No troll- Fili. That's rude" she tried to scold but it held little weight on the cheery dwarf as he dragged her from the pantry back towards everyone else.

Hearing the foot falls of their alcohol seeking compatriot, the Oakensheild party turned to face the gap in the wall. Their eyes were up on the two as they returned, "Well lad? Is there more?" Gloin asked, almost urged. Fili turned his flagon upside down, a single drop falling from its inverted rim as he shook it to prove his point.

The looks of devastation upon the collection of the dwarves of the lonely mountain would have been almost comedic to Ire if her tummy hadn't taken control of her brain as food was nearly the only thing on her mind then. "All gone I'm afraid" Fili sighed dramatically, until he craned his neck to look to the woman next to him with a beaming smile, "But miss Trotter here was just on her way to ask our burglar where he was hiding the rest!" He called, squeezing her shoulders again as if to encourage her to do him this "favour".

The party cheered when they heard this, all merrily chatting and grinning to one another as Ire turned to Fili and attempted to protest "I was not, you said-" he hushed her with the flagon and nodded to the table. Raising his brows, he practically purred "You do this and you'll be in all their good graces, including my uncle… and I’ll stop calling you goblin". He whispered far to close to her ear, his nose brushing her cheek. Well she couldn't pass that up now could she. "And you can ask about getting you fed" he tapped her empty stomach with his flagon a little harder than needed, but she just took it as him not knowing his own strength, or just being excited in the moment.

Frowning, yet starving Ire reluctantly agreed to go bother poor Bilbo. The last thing that hobbit wanted was strangers demanding more off of him. That she felt now more than before. "You owe me, Son of Dis" she scowled, tugging herself from his grip.

Fili uttered a "yes!" Through his teeth as the annoyed maiden turned from him to head off to beg. Well when he slapped her rear end you can imagine the hell that broke lose all too suddenly. She grabbed the unexpecting prince by his wrist connected to his offending hand, twisting his arm, spinning him around and slamming him into the beam harder then necessary and far too quickly for him to react. Again, Fili hissed, but from the sting she gave him rather than his initial happiness. The other dwarves stood from their places ready to make a move to save the blonde idiot from the claws of the offending woman.

Ire lent more into her hold cause the prince to wince and call out slightly, "You do NOT have permission to touch me so!" Ire growled at the man pinned against the beam. Turning her sharp glare to the others at the table she practically hissed "That goes for all of you". Her focus went back to the wriggling Fili as he attempted to loosen her grip. Taking a breath to calm herself she cooed "Say you’re sorry" as calmly as she could.

Fili looked to her through the corner of his blue eyes as if asking "are you serious?", she held him in place, perhaps tightening slightly to draw the answer out of him. With a huff and some splutter, eventually the prince muttered what sound like an apology of some sort. Pride now in chest, he wasn’t going to let this tall clean shaved dwarf woman best him.

Ire loosened her grip but still lent him onto the wall, asking him to repeat himself. She had loosened enough for him to regain some footing and shove her off of him, "I said I'm sorry you'll never be as strong as me" he announced smugly.

She was furious now, as he stood squaring her up, Ire would not have this lack of respect from one of the only party members she would have called friend. "You and me, outside now- touch hold, first one to call Posey loses" she declared. By now the other party members had repeated themselves and watched the show before them.

Fili was about to agree before Thorin cut him off. "There will be no infighting in this company. If you wish to keep with us Miss Trotter, I suggest you keep your displays to yourself. Fili, don't antagonize miss Trotter" his commanding voice gruff but fair kept, Thorin repeated himself, unclenching his fists. Thorin to admit that Gandalf sure knew how to pick them.

Ire pushed her hair back into place, not once looking to Fili and by the puppy dog eyes Kili gave her, she felt somewhat ashamed for her rash actions, but can one blame her, she was far too hungry and angry by then. Bowing her head to the company leader Ire apologized and left to locate Bilbo and Gandalf. She found the wizard leaving the sitting room looking rather down, "Gandalf?" She quizzed as he squished past her.

He looked between Ire and where the party resided almost confused now. "What was that ruckus my dear girl?" He mused, turning his attention to her when he seemed the hallway adequate. Once again rocking on her heals and ashamedly looking to the floor Ire explained to the wizard what exactly transpired between her and the other and that she was now on the hunt for something to eat and possibly something else to water the dwarves. Gandalf shook his head amused at the story, but agreed no one should be touching things they shouldn't, that had gotten him into trouble a few times himself and he was sure more to follow, whether it was a person or an object. Permission was key. "So, you are hungry dear girl, come, let's find you dinner" he ushered Ire away from the living room.

Looking back Ire questioned about their host to which the old wizard replied Bilbo had retired for the night in hope to regain some form of normality from that very bizarre evening and events. "I would feel rude taking from Mr Baggins as he sleeps" she frowned, though her hunger was making it hard to keep denying an easy meal.

Gandalf chuckled, "trust me my dear, this hobbit will want his stores cleared for when he leaves tomorrow, come now I'm sure his vegetables will have been left untouched and maybe we might find you some pickled fish" he mused leading her further in the cavernous hallways and deeper under the hill.

Ire was shocked to say the least at the existence of another pantry, in fact the cellar that existed as well. Not taking any chance she stocked a bowl with a mix of greens and proteins, and the bottle of what she later found out was whisky tucked deeply into her tunic sloshing slightly as she made her way back to the main dining room. Taking a breath to gather herself from the heckles that she knew were coming her way she pushed through to take a seat in the corner, about to busy herself with her meal when Bofur was stood looming over her the best he could considering she now seemed to stand a good half head taller than him "Come sit next to me lass, no need to huddle here" he held a callous hand to her that after a moment she took and was yanked out of her chair, the bottle on her person sloshed again, he gave her a confused glance to the sloshing bulge that was where her previously flat looking stomach had been. When he realized, she was smuggling a drink he grinned and raised his brows to share his knowing look. She joined the table, sitting between Bofur and the older white haired dwarf Balin. Now able to eat her meal she happily sat quiet, nibbling away listening to the group share stories and cheer louder when Gandalf appeared with more drink. "Ah, I see, leave the drinks to the wizard, I don't blame yah, I wouldn't want to be carrying a cask that size neither" Bofur sniggered, nodding to his brother at the end of the table "Bombur might be able to handle it" he shrugged "but he'd prefer to just sit and eat".

Ire nodded all whilst chewing, she too felt for the fat ginger dwarf, relaxing and eating sounded great before the journey they had ahead of them. It was when the youngest of the Ri - Ori specifically decided to quiz Ire on her choice of dinner did she become the subject of debate again. "I just don't get it" he rocked his head to the side, leaning on his hand, propped with his arm and elbow digging into the table, "Why would you bother with green food, it tastes yucky, smells like a goblins bum and is just nasty" he counted the negatives disapproving of her meal.

Thinking on her fly, Ire stared Ori down eating a piece of spinach not flinching the once, the younger Ri winced watching the display of passive aggressive eating. When the woman finished her leaves, she gulped them down pointedly and stood and held up an arm to pinch her bicep "I ate my greens and grew tall and strong" she beamed.

Ori stared in amazement, muttering maybe he should try a leaf and see if he too would grow. Bofur pulled Ire down laughing accusing her of filling poor Ori's head with spittle.

Dwalin stood now, holding both arms rather square, flexing his thick muscle grinning the entire time "I think I'm bigger" he mused, clear the mead in his system was the one controlling his reigns; changing pose to show off some more. "I have never eaten a leaf in my life, good old meat and grains" he boasted, his brother, Balin, shook his head, though the smile gracing his old features proved he too was enjoying the silliness.

Holding a mug up Kili cheered "Aye! And Ale!" There was a chorus of “here here” as the dwarves all took this opportunity to down their flagons much like they had all just spent a year in a desert. The resounding ensemble of belches and burps seemed to add more to the strange cheery ambience that was celebrating dwarves and a jolly wizard whom rather enjoyed their strange company.

After the song of stomachs had ended it seemed the men slipped back into making muscles at one another, soon enough it became a small contest, by now Ire had been sneaking swigs of whiskey and as the way of being caught with said bottle, sharing it with the observant one to catch her out, that being Bofur and happy he was with his few swigs. The men having there pose filled rounds, still attempting to outdo one another decided to drag Ire back too it as well, now more gleeful herself, nose red as proof of the drink in her system she deftly obliged copying Dwalin’s pectoral popping, or on a lady, chest popping pose raising some whistle from the men around her, with that she shot down red faced hiding under her quilt of unruly hair.

Kili decided to try his hand at the same pose, Ire having finally got past her embarrassment, peeked through her hair to see the youngest prince make an arse of himself pulling the same stunts she had. When Gloin suddenly laughed and slapped the table it dragged everyone’s attention, "What's so funny?" Pouted the dark-haired archer. Gloin snorted, leaning across the table, right hand held up to block the view of his mouth to whispered to his brother Oin (who had his trusty hearing aid pointed to his Gloin) near opposite him.

The normally hard of hearing dwarf looked to Kili with wide eyes, then to Ire, then back to Kili to erupt into the same laughs as his brother. "What?!" Kili barked, now curious. Fili, grinning wide nodded also "Come now, spill it" he asked a hand pointing to the pair.

Gloin opened his mouth but closed again to burst into a fit of giggles, whilst Oin bellowed "He looks like the lass!" Before rocking back in his chair howling along with his brother. Except for the pair almost wetting themselves the rest of the party sat quietly for mere seconds before they all joined with thunderous laughs.

Kili wanted to argue but Fili pulled him down and ruffled his hair. There were some little jabs to the younger prince mentioning his lack of beard and how he would make a good wife but all ended when his golden-haired brother stood calling out "Let me show you a real man" before taking it upon himself to outdo his little brother. Ire could only watch in horror as he posed on the opposite of the table, eventually his eyes coming to her. He had the audacity to wink and blow her a kiss before Thorin called it to an end.

The king announced his urge to retire for the night and that how he did not wish to be disturbed or there would be consequences. Luckily for the party, hobbits tended to have many spare rooms for guests and possibly there should be large families, but as Mr Bilbo living alone, he had plenty spare. Gandalf showed the dwarves different places to dwell until the dawn.

Ire stood to the back, expecting to have to camp in the Baggins' garden, but Gandalf had other plans, pulling her to the lounge she had left Bilbo earlier that evening, "Here my dear, that there should do you for tonight, no need to be out in the open" Gandalf pointed to a rather twee looking divan, though her feet may hang over the edge she no longer cared, whisky in her blood, causing a warmth through her fingers to her toes she nodded taking a step towards its hideous little flower patterned poof. Before she could lay down Gandalf took residence in a chair in an opposing corner, topping up the tobacco in his pipe to continue his smoke rings. "Ire, listen to me before you sleep" he murmured, packing in the dried plant.

She sat up looking to him slightly confused but obediently waited for his words, he placed the pipe to his lips, lit it with some kindling from the fire that kept the room warm. After spewing a couple of magnificent rings he continued "My dear, it has been one evening and I already sense conflict with your presence in the party" again, more rings flew where he willed, some span around the clock on the mantle place, others danced by the paintings on walls, "please do not antagonize them before the mission even begins, we need them to trust you or they will not listen" his contemplation indeed resonated with Ire.

It was true she barely knew the men she would to travel with, yes, she had known a spare few of them from long ago but that was a lifetime in reality, they had all changed from the wide-eyed children and young ones that played in the caverns of the blue mountains so long ago.

Ire bowed her head, "I understand, perhaps I was to reactive this evening, but I must set where my bounds lie". Her eyes now wandered from the soft carpet up to the wall filled with framed portraits of Hobbits young and old as well as canvases of scenes painted from around the shire.

A sound of grievance came from the old wizard as he looked from the celling down to the ratted mixed maiden ahead of him, "I do agree we all must respect one another perhaps not to resolve issues with violence and think of your words" he leaned forwards, his shadow loomed menacingly "We cannot afford them to abandon yourself, our dear Master Baggins or me" inhaling through his nose he returned back to lounge in the small but sturdy armchair.

Curling up onto the given seat Ire whispered an apology to Gandalf and promised she would try to act more professionally from then on out. Laying down to finally rest, Ire suddenly shot up, startling the wizard, causing a horse cough to wrench from his throat. Looking to him with a brow raised she questioned "How do I make them listen?". A reasonable question about some less then reasonable characters.

Humming, as to settle his now sore in need of soothing throat, Gandalf pulled his mouth into a lop-sided frown, "the best way?" He mused "to earn their trust and respect" his pointed his pipe to her "not easily done mind you, but perhaps be..." he inhaled through his teeth, whistling slightly "a small form of predictable" he nodded to himself, holding his pipe in his teeth, pulling the bottle of wine Ire had handed over hours prior from his sleeve.

Ire took to laying back down staring at the ceiling. Predictable, that meant routine. She could attempt that, surely it could be easy, maybe not so much for one who lived by the seams of life, but she could try. Taking to closing her eyes she sank into curious dreams filled with much excitement and anxiety for her adventures to come.


	2. Can't Ride? Then we'll practice on a hobby horse.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we find the Oakensheild party making a start on their long journey. Though, it must be said the group does fall victim to some of there own weaknesses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do apologise for a sight inconstancy throughout this chapter. Writing I tend to swap between both my laptop and mobile and discovered I could add correct letters to names for instance " Kíli" rather then "Kili". I know for sure there will be a point in here I possibly missed correcting it, so if you find it I am sorry. That being said, I hope you enjoy the chapter! -Eventually I will go back to the first chapter and correct it.

Ire slept soundly until she was roused by a set of heavy knocks on the thick wooden frame and a gruff voice rumbling deeply to "Get up". The sudden cut from Gandalf’s steady snores was enough to wake the woman further as she watched the old wizard snort and spittle much like an old human grandfather would after being woken abruptly from passing out on too much merry mead after the winter solstice celebration.

Sleep heavy hazel eyes looked to see a rather drowsy looking not quite king under the mountain, still sporting his bed head and firm frown. It seemed Thorin was not a morning person. Ire had to pinch herself to stop the laughter that brewed within at seeing the man who had threatened her last night looking so disorientated. She sat up; rather slowly to then swing her legs over the edge of the divan to stretch up and crack her back. She could feel the ache deep in her muscles from the Whiskey of the night before, proof she should drink less, but the occasions will always ask for more.

Nodding to Thorin she gave a hoarse "Morning" before standing to continue her stretches, readying her body, limbering up for the days’ worth of riding soon to throb and ache them to their very bones.

The disgruntled dwarf just grunted and left the wizard and huntress to gather themselves before breakfast. Gandalf took it upon himself to peel from the chair in a manner far too young for someone that looked so wrinkled. He croaked his woken greeting to the huntress mumbling about his craving for some fried eggs.

She had to laugh, today was the first day of her life’s greatest adventure, alas starting with a minor hangover, she hoped it to be grand and worth it in the end, but with her current goal in mind, it would do. Ire decided her morning fancy was something sweet, perhaps a jam tart if Bilbo stocked them. Oh yes, something sweet indeed.

Breakfast was considerably quieter than the night before, it seemed that most of the dwarfs, much like their king, were not morning folk, especially rising with the sun it seemed.

Ire was bright eyed and bushy haired, face washed and hungry by the time she stumbled to the pantry, taking what she fancied, far more comfortable than the night before. Taking Gandalf's words to heart she decided to try play it more "predictable".

Taking a seat nearer the back of the table somewhere near her eventual seat last night she gave a curt nod to Thorin, who had seemed to of woken up some-what since his round of rousing everyone else had finished. As Ire wandered in, she smiled to all the still tired dwarfs. Breakfast was once again, quiet, almost like the group had a collective hangover. They did.

After finishing their meals, they cleaned up the Hobbit hole to the state it was before they arrived, the difference was incredible really. They left the contract for Bilbo, as well as a plate of roughly made ginger biscuits.

Leaving Bagend to find their ponies who were left stabled at the local Hobbiton Inn, the dwarfs stared in shock at the great working beast the stood a proud 7 hands taller than their own, dwarfing there little woolly things, the majority turned to Gandalf in surprise; silently asking if this unit of a quadruped was his.

In the same surprised manner, he returned a look of question to the horse that stood proud.

The wizard had a guess who this creature belonged too; his thoughts were proven correct when the dainty woman went over to the great beast and kissed its nude muzzle. It took a moment for the men to realise who had rode into the Shire on such a creature.

Gandalf’s own horse was a couple of hands smaller than the monster Ire petted like a fat old lap cat, one that she could drag herself onto, after having loaded up her saddlebags.

Patting the Clydesdale’s thick neck, she grinned holding the reins, Ire felt at home on a horse, she blamed riding in Rohan for this, her home area was well known for its equines, specifically the royal breed Mearas. But as a lowly commoner she had taken to her father’s load carrier as he had taken to her, she was far easier to carry and with his long gate he could take her faster than these small ponies could ever wish for.

"What is wrong? Bumble here is the finest creature I have ever owned, trust me, he is magnificent, maybe if you're nice to him he might let you ride him" she cooed to her beloved the chestnut coated companion. Said horse snorted, ready to go when commanded.

The dwarves stared for another long second before busing themselves with loading up their gear as well. Nori shook his head looking to the great beast now known as Bumble, "magnificent isn't a word I'd use" he grumbled, helping his brother with his stirrups, buckling them to the correct length after adjusting them from Dori's struggled mount on.

The elder brother nodded "terrifying is better". Dori's stiff glances to Bumble and Ire spoke more about the mountain dwarfs’ nervous disposition of bigger creatures then their skittish words.

After a short while longer, about 30 minutes if one were to guess, the rest of the dwarves and wizard had mounted their steeds and set off on their long trek. They rode for about 10 minutes at a slow walking pace; making bets on whether Gandalf's favourite Hobbit would show up or if he were too scared to leave his foodless hole.

Ire, having been at the front to simply keep her distance from the small ponies, wishing to avoid an accidental injury from being clipped/kicked by Bumble’s goliath sized hooves. Though ahead she could hear the bets being made and decided to make her own, she called back her prediction that Bilbo would join, especially after her leaving such a sweet treat for him. Not too long after Bilbo emerged calling after the party, requesting to join after having filled in the contract.

Balin accepted the paperwork with a smile as Thorin barked that the Hobbit needed to be saddled up, much to the hobbit’s discomfort. Bilbo was placed on the smallest pony. He was far too focused on not falling off; that the so-called respectable Baggins had yet to notice the beast leading the way and Ire on it.

The rider made a good few coin following her gut and Gandalf’s. She would listen to the old man’s advice over the smaller men tailing behind and if he was not there, then her instinct above all, it failed her rather rarely. But with the way she could feel the king under the mountain’s eyes boring into the back of her skull she debated whether following her gut was a good idea. After all it is the reason, she agreed to join this quest. Ire was yet to spend 24 hours with them all and already she was convinced the party leader disliked her. This was going to be a long day.

Much to her surprise only a couple of hours in Thorin called for the party to halt before breaching the border of the next town. He trotted up to the front, overtaking Bumble with slight haste that did not go unnoticed by the huntress, the great king must have been weary of big creatures much like the rest of his kin. "Will there be an inn here pathfinder?" He asked, somewhat excitedly. Looking to their shadows Ire realised the sun had passed its central spot in the sky now, slightly ajar to the west, it had gone lunch time. The dwarf king wanted to stop for a midday meal.

Nodding Ire confirmed that indeed it would "-almost any town will have a pub or inn within the Shires boarder, this place will definitely-" but before she could finish Thorin whistled and gestured for the group to move on, the others following not far behind, obediently listening to Thorin and by their excitement also very happy at the idea of a meal.

One by one they trotted past her and Bumble; It was when she saw the pale daunted face of Bilbo staring at the great beast she was sat upon, did she remember she had yet to introduce her noble steed to the poor hobbit, after lunch though, he would be less likely to pass out of fright/excitement on a full stomach.

Gandalf chose to ride adjacent to Ire, at the back of the pack, almost like the two larger riders were escorting their smaller compatriots, in essence they were. The exasperated look the old wizard gave her made her almost happy to of ridden at the front, having avoided the commotion of first day giddiness. "Long morning Gandalf?" She chuckled as they both steadily plodded along, though Gandalf’s horse was far more elegant looking then Bumbles, bouncy walk.

A small, tired frown tugged at the corner of his mouth before grumbling "You don't know the half of it." Before clearing his throat and speaking in his normal tone "It would appear master Baggins seems to be missing the luxuries of home and the dwarves are making sure to mock him to misery." Adjusting his great cadet grey hats brim to cover his eyes in shade from the oh so bright sun.

With a shake of her head, Ire had no sympathy for poor Bilbo “He’ll soon find this is the luxurious side of the misty mountains.” She smiled, watching the small ponies ahead, witnessing the behaviour Gandalf had just mentioned as the dwarfs, specifically Kíli and Fíli, throwing a book over Mr Baggins’, who’s arms were stretched up in an attempt to grab the item, much like the child’s game piggy in the middle, though mind you, it seemed to be that Halfling on a hobby horse would have been more appropriate. A content sigh escaped from her nose as closed smiling lips curled up further, “It amazes me they want inn grub, I assumed they wanted to get to the great East West road sooner than later?” she held her saddle with her left gloved hand as the other slipped into her cloak, pulling out a small pouch of coin.

The Great Grey Wizard by now had his pipe nestled between his teeth, seemingly calmer than he was before “You underestimate a dwarfs desire for good food, much like a hobbit, they would both prefer far more frequent meals of larger sizes then what we would be used too on long travels” he puffed at the burning snuff, smoke escaping his nose, rather than blowing rings.

The pair at the rear could now hear the pleas of the hobbit, desperate for his precious book back. Fíli caught the red covered book, it fitted in his hands rather snuggly, everything Hobbits had were that just too snug. The blonde opened the red cover to peek at its pages. Neat scribbles laid in dry black ink on the slightly yellowed pages. His blue eyes focused on the words and soon discovered that himself and his brother had caught Mr Bilbo writing in his diary. “Give that back!” ordered the flustered Hobbit, desperately attempting to cling onto the pony with his thighs as he reached oh so far “That is private, I request you return it to me this instant!” he attempted in a more annoyed tone.

Kíli watched curiously as his big brother read the mysterious little book “What is It Fee? Anything good? What kind of book does a Hobbit read?” he asked teasingly, watching the blushing Bilbo squirm.

Cracking a smirk to himself Fíli closed the book and held it up in one hand, “More like what does a Hobbit write?” he mused, smacking it with his free palm. Bilbo almost screeched knowing that the blonde had indeed read a portion of his diary.

The messy haired brothers’ eyes lit up like he was seeing something new for the first time, his giddy expression left him looking younger than he wished to be preserved, especially by all the fine maidens in the land, “A story?” he mused, but by his brothers’ devilish smirk it had to be one thing “A diary? You keep diaries Master Hobbit? Isn’t that for little children?” he asked, scratching his scalp through his crazy mop.

Fíli chuckled, “A tad bit **_nithul_** (girly), don’t you think brother?” he still wore his grin. Kíli just snorted.

With a huff and putting his hands under his armpits Bilbo sat hunched, pouting, face reddened by the blood in his cheeks. Sniffling to himself, wiggling his nose, “I’ll have you know it is so I can record this venture, fresh in mind, nothing lost outside the detail” he stayed in his miserable position.

Hearing the commotion behind, the youngest Ri took a keen interest in Bilbo’s jottings, “What’s he written?” asked Ori over his shoulder, “I’m a bit of a scribe you see! Maybe you and me, Mr Baggins, could swap notes?” he grew timid by the end of his request, it seemed spending time with the other youngsters did that to the less warrior inclined.

Bilbo unfolded slightly to see Ori’s wide-eyed peering. Twitching his nose, the hobbit straightened himself up and nodded to the curious dwarf, “Perhaps, though I believe my words may differ to your own.” He pulled at his ascot, clearing his throat.

Fíli laughed curtly “Aye, as your words seem to wonder and ponder oh so personal things about others you have only just met Mr Baggins.” His smug grin was more than enough to infuriate Bilbo once more. The blonde tossed the red bound diary over the hobbit’s head once more.

Kíli attempted to catch it, nearly losing it to the dirt path cutting through the town, “Watch it Fee!” he yipped as he regained his composure. When the youngest member of the dwarves was sure he was no longer at risk of appearing immature, by now that was a pointless goal, quick fingers flicked through the seemingly innocent diary to run over the lines. A whistle a “Ooooh” Kíli shot his line of sight to Bilbo, much like his brother, smirking, “Interesting, very interesting…” He cooed, “To answer it’s big, really big!” Kíli broke into guffaws, smacking his knee, tossing the book back to the now scarlet skinned hobbit.

From the tips of his ear down to his hairy toes Bilbo was flushed. He spluttered as he caught the offending diary, “Wh-why I never!? I was going to ask! I’ve never had the chance to see one!” he defended, pocketing the book into his velvet blazer.

The shrill shout of Bilbo rang out loudly, gathering the unwanted attention from the town’s folk near and around, going about their mostly mundane business. The hobbit quickly slapped his hands over his mouth, once again curling up, praying to all that was kind that his outburst would be short lived. By the bewildered looks of his party members, It would not.

The group would want answers, but that could wait for now as Thorin found the swinging sign, chained above the log walled inns front doors. “That tavern will do, tie up the ponies- remember to not leave your valuables”, He commanded, leading his woolly steed to the rather soon to be cramped pasture next to the old inn.

The group soon dismounted, collected their chosen items, and made way in haste into the now dwarf infested eatery. Ire road in last to the pasture, having let Gandalf ahead of her. “I will stay here with the ponies” she announced, dismounting with ease, to tie the reigns onto a rusty loop that was nailed deeply into the worn fence. Turning around to witness Bilbo riding aimlessly upon Myrtle, panic present on his ever so emotional face, his mumbles and cries made it evident he was not going to stop by himself soon. After all, he had mentioned it peculiar for a hobbit to ride unless dire, which in the recent history of Bagend, was not so.

Ire closed in on the confused Myrtle, taking hold and firmly tugging her to a holt. By this point Bilbo has taken a firm grip onto his stationary pony’s wither. Taking shallow breaths, the shaken hobbit softly asked, “Can I come down now?”. His dark eyes pleaded in a way his voice currently could not. Ire obliged, hands tucking under his arms to man handle the poor fellow down.

Bilbo’s legs quaked slightly as he regained his ability to walk, though dodging the pasture of ponies would test him greatly. It was then a tall staff was held taught in front of him, his desperate hands took hold, keeping himself propped in place. The deep chuckle that danced in the air reminded the halfling exactly who the pole belonged too.

Gandalf craned his neck downwards to smile gently at Bilbo, “Come Master Baggins, I’m sure you could use a drink to calm those shaky nerves of yours if you are to remount your pony.” There was pool of empathy that laid deep within the old wizards’ eyes, deep enough to swallow the hobbit whole. Bilbo nodded, more than convinced that a stiff drink could help his future rides.

Meanwhile, Ire had tied up Myrtle with the caravan of other mounts, making sure that all equines were in some form of comfortable. The dwarves had rushed off so quickly that they their half-arsed attempt at tying the reigns was downright shameful.

Starting to lead away the shaky halfling, Gandalf took a glance to his huntress, “Will you not join us? Seeming as you have secured the ponies, none shall break free.” His voice still soft, yet with a backing of enticement.

Ire held up a gloved hand, pointing to Bumble and her pack “I find myself more comfortable out here, yet I would not say no if someone was to bring me out a drink. I believe my company is not sought by the fellows we travel alongside. So best I remain here, with creatures I understand.” By now she had woven through the herd to her four-legged companion; said companion was drinking from the dented trough.

With a sigh Gandalf nodded to the girl, taking Bilbo into the Inn for their hopefully hearty lunches. That left Ire and Bumble alone and out of ear shot from any nosy dwarves. She climbed up the fence to perch upon the thin beam of splintering wood, taking a certain hobbit’s diary out from the tucked position at the top of her trousers. You see, having helped Bilbo down, in such a disoriented state, Ire found it far too easy to slip the book from the hobbits blazer and hide it from view until the others left. After all, she was curious as to what Mr Baggins had been so embarrassed about and what big object Kíli had mentioned. Her plan was to tuck it into the pack on Myrtle and try persuade the rest that must have been where Bilbo had put the book in the first place, or if it came too it, claim it fell from his pocket as she helped him down.

Ire had not lied when she claimed to be more comfortable with the ponies, though that was the last of the matter, no, she had chosen to avoid being stuck in such a cramped space much like the night before, wishing to avoid a repeat of the upset and ruckus she caused. Perhaps they may see her as mysterious, but in truth it was more claustrophobia and her already thinning patience.

Skimming through the crimson leather bound pages of Bilbo’s thoughts, she found herself warming to the catty personality that resided in the hobbit’s head and the storyteller in his writings. Scanning further through the slightly snide comments and curious assumptions she found it! “One has to wonder what size of axe would such a fellow use?” she said aloud, nose engrossed in the yellow pages. She snorted “Big" with a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head. The huntress chuckled at the short answer as she slipped off the fence to tuck the little red book into Myrtle’s pack.

Of course, “Big" is how a young dwarf would answer, though a better question to of asked would have been “what weight could a dwarf carry?” but if Kíli were to answer, more than likely his response would have been “Heavy. Very heavy" again an unlady like snort came from her as she returned back to her spot by Bumble. “Oh Bumble!” she exhaled softly, as she contemplated to her horse, “What do I do with myself amongst this group? It seems I know four of them from my early travels with **_Adad_** , but I fear the others will be difficult to... well... make friends. You know how I struggle with such things.” She held her head with her hands, resting her elbows upon her lap as she lent with a huff and a pout. Bumble mouthed at Ire's tunic in response to her closeness.

His rider sensed what he was getting at, “Alright you great cheek, I think I have something for you." She held his muzzle for a moment before once again getting down from her spot on the fence. That would soon become tiresome, climbing up and jumping down. Ignoring the sudden negative thoughts, she dove into her pack to pull out a canvas sack of oats to treat her dear steed with. Taking a handful, she held it in offering as quick lips snatched up the oats with gusto.

Happily, the Clydesdale ate from his riders’ hand, having more than a couple scoops of the oats carried. Bumble did not stop grazing at his snack when a gasp and a sloshing of liquid met with a “By Mahal it’s eating your hands lass!” cried a rather panicked Dori, having spilt a tankard of frothy mead down himself.

Having been spooked by the screech of the unexpected dwarf Ire glimpsed towards the terrified, Dori. Tucking the bag of oats onto her leather belt, she let Bumble finish his munching calling to the man "He would do no such thing! Horses, much like ponies, do not have a taste for flesh. See? I was treating my hardworking friend here." Ire held her slobbered up glove forwards to show no bites or missing fingers. She then wiped said slobber on her tunic, leaving her happy horse to see the damage of Dori's now soaked trousers- from the spilt mead of course.

With a shaky exhale and a somewhat fish like frown Dori nodded, eyes still scrutinizing the beast. "O-of course! I knew that, just looked like something else from here." His attempt at an excuse was an obvious lie, but for the sake of his pride Ire faked understanding and followed along with the story.

Gently taking the near empty tankard from the dwarf, she sloshed its contents around, peering inside with a sad expression. "Did you forget something Master Dori or was this mead by any chance for me?" The half dwarven lady queried, still saddened by the lack of drink now in hand.

Ripping his eyes from the working horse, Dori's focus finally landed on the woman who stood nearly a foot taller than he, "Pardon?" He asked before his mind caught up with his mouth "I-erm, yes..." He paused, once again catching up with his mouth "For you. The mead was for you, at Gandalf’s request." Finally, having made sense of his answer, Dori exhaled with a small smile.

The huntress looked to the soggy dwarf and clicked her tongue. "I doubt it was Gandalf’s request you wear it, here." She shrugged off her cloak, offering it to the baffled man before her. "You can borrow this until your trousers dry, tis my fault you're drenched- last thing we want is you catching the flu at the beginning of our journey." Her bow lips curled in a warm smile.

Holding his hands up he denied the dark bundle. "I have a spear pair of draws in my pack my lady, you don't have to worry about dirtying your clothes for me. It's my fault it spilt in the first place." He finished, checking the distance between himself and the terribly big beast.

After a "If you're sure." and a second denial, Ire struggled the sticky buckled head hole back over, tugging her thick mane, making it tangled and unruly looking, like she had not styled it at all. "Well, if you're okay with just changing. Why not return inside and sort your swap? I will remain here." Her smile turned toothy and bright, gesturing to the collection of equines contained by the splintering fences.

A pudgy finger pointed to the flask in Ire's, (dainty in comparison) hand, "You might want to get a top up. I am afraid I might be a while. I bet the lads would be pleased if you joined in with the merry making, they sure did last night!" He beamed with a chuckle.

They enjoyed her company? Well, that was somewhat shocking revelation. "I thought I had made quite the arse of myself; Well and truly, if I'm honest." Ire admitted with a small flush of colour on her cheeks.

Dori nodded "Perhaps, but we all do, it's the best way to enjoy our time! Come on then lass, grab your things and come join us!" He turned to head inside and waved over his shoulder in a come-hither motion.

Working up her courage Ire nodded boldly. "Alright!" She cheered, downing the dribble left in her tankard before bounding over to her pack, swinging it over her shoulder with a slight wobble, having underestimated the force of such an over encumbered sack. Last thing she did was tie the bag of oats open onto the fence in front of Bumble before wishing him a nice couple of hours of respite.

Three and a half hours later, Ire decided she had regretted letting Dori talk her into joining the party inside. It became very clear that they would not be leaving until the next morning at the rate the drinks were being chugged and the great piles of food that were hurried from kitchen to table.

This had become far too overwhelming for the huntress, who took it upon herself to barge her way to the bar past the locals and boarding patrons, mind she did try to throw apologetic looks too, all in an attempt gather the attention of the overworked barmaid, to query if there was a room spare. Having stayed outside for a small period of time seemed long enough for Thorin who decided that his company would stay at the inn for the night. It seemed the gaggle of dwarves, a very merry wizard and one seemingly antisocial hobbit had already taken it upon themselves to purchase rooms. Without consideration for their guide.

The merry making was far too loud for Ire and much like Bilbo had done sometime earlier after eating his fill, she was planning to sneak off and hide from the busy bar.

Thankfully, there was indeed a room. You see as a lady it would be unbecoming to expect her to stay with any of the men she travelled with. Slamming down the coin needed for her own room; Ire took the key in return and ran upstairs as fast as her legs could take her. She threw her bag and heavy apparel off, kicking the mucky boots by the door and flopped onto the old mattress with a huff.

Soon enough she would have to return downstairs to sort those men out. Ire was damned sure she was going to make sure these shenanigans were not a regular occurrence. The Dwarves choosing to pay for rooms and food and then partying like they had won some sort of great battle.

She swore to more than Mahal that if they tried to pull this again, she would not hesitate to take off and leave the rowdy bunch be, until the next morning were the woman would wake them all as soon as the sun rose, knocking loudly and projecting her voice.

The huntress rolled to her left and reached out to open her pack, wading through the many items to pull out her special cargo. A finely forged urn decorated in gold and slivers of obsidian. " ** _Adad_** " she sighed, sitting up now to rest the ashes on her crossed legged lap. "I will have you home soon, give me strength to handle this quest... and the company alongside it." She whispered to it, carefully running her fingers over the intricate metal. Ira, her younger brother had crafted it well, much like the matching one he had made for their mother. Ire missed him and his quiet demeanour, much like she missed her little sister Irk, though now fully grown, much unlike the other two, Irk had become a great deal taller. Ironically, Ire as the eldest was in fact the shortest sibling though still shapely. Ira was indeed taller but by a few inches but lacked any obvious muscle while Irk stood a foot taller than him, shaped like a very broad elf.

The eldest sister smiled at the thought of her siblings and the memories that came along, she would easily daydream for far longer if it wasn't for the loud sound of something large, heavy and wooden breaking and the resound yelling that filled the air from down below. Worried Ire gently returned her father’s urn deep into the pack before grabbing her coin, the room key, and a dagger, that she hid in her boots, did she run downstairs to witness the damage.

There, in the middle of the bar was a broken table with two dwarves wrestling on top while the rest of the party, with Bofur cheering, holding his hat to his head as he whooped and hollered! Bombur who was still stuffing his face from the plate that now balanced on his great stomach, enjoyed his fifth dinner with a show. Bifur also cheered, but in Khuzdul confusing the humans and hobbits around them whilst Nori shook a coin purse filled with change calling out bets on the pair on the floor. Dori was unimpressed by his brother’s antics an even less so by the brawl, meanwhile peeking from behind his fingers was Ori, seemingly not sure which of his older cousins to follow, having hid himself from the current fight, yet found himself enraptured by the punches, kicks and hair pulling. Lastly there sat Óin and Glóin shaking their heads disapprovingly, commenting on the down-right daftness and how perhaps they could improve their techniques and other patrons gathered around cheered, roared, and yelled at the pair to continue rough housing.

With the damage done and no sign of anyone stopping the madness before her, Ire walked to the bar and ordered a glass of something strong, pulling the coins needed from her drawstring purse and piling them neatly onto the sticky countertop. A quick thanks was given as she waited. When the glass was placed, she took no time in drawing back a shot of the vile tasting liquid before setting it back down, wiping her mouth with her arm.

Where were the elders when you needed them? It seemed Thorin, Balin, Dwalin and Gandalf had yet to return for their little rendezvous and take back control of the situation.

Ire decided she would try if none of the others would. Now with burning courage Ire strode over to the group to glare at the pair tugging at each other’s hair and attempts to grapple the other. Of course, it was the princes rolling around like rowdy pigs in shit. Taking a quick glance amongst the group it seemed none were going to put an end to it anytime soon, rather they were seemingly encouraging the two. And so, counting backwards from five Ire drew a deep breath, kicking the busted furniture and shouting " ** _STOP IT_**!" In rough Khuzdul.

That made the majority of dwarves stop and take notice of the fuming female, now gritting her teeth. However, the pair on the floor hadn't seemed to take no notice until a booming voice called " ** _ENOUGH_**! Fíli! Kíli! Have you no shame?! Acting like a pair of infants, get up! Your mother would be ashamed of you!" His now captivated audience watched in silence as the king under the mountain made his grand return.

The brothers shot up, looking to the floor, or table fragments bellow their feet, both muttering "Sorry Uncle." Still unable to meet Thorin's livid eyes. The patrons not part of the company slunk away to their tables, some even moving to the furthest wall away as the Dwarves became subject to a very annoyed King's rant.

By now Ire had grown tired of this and returned to the bar, it seemed no matter what she tried they would not listen. The Oakensheild party were just a means to an end and she only had to deal with them until they had returned to Erebor. She kept these bitter thoughts to herself, at least for now as she finished whatever was next handed to her.

The poor barmaid looked so beyond it that Ire paid for her to have a drink also, after all, it settled the nerves.

It seemed the pair drank together for a short while before they were disturbed by a very sorry looking Balin carrying a small sack of money, "This should cover the cost of the table lassie and possibly some more to help you cope". The barmaid nodded, a tight-lipped frown on her face as she took the sack away to stash somewhere for the landlord.

The old dwarf chuckled, nudging Ire with his elbow, "Rather eventful lot we are, I know it can be a handful sometimes but trust me, they will calm down soon enough when we're on the road." His melodic voice calmed Ire somewhat.

Rubbing her eyes while letting out a light moan she turned to Balin, exhausted, though glad at least another one of the dwarves spoke to her like a person. Day one of this journey was coming to a close and she was on the verge of slapping a certain royal trio silly. " ** _Adad_** was rather tame in comparison." She chuffed, slinging back the last of her glass. "This is making me doubt how much of a dwarf I am." She mused, leaning on the adherent bar, her head propped up awkwardly in her right hand.

The old looking dwarf placed a hand on her back and gently shook as an attempt to appease her, "Hey now lass, no need for that, Gandalf said you were strong willed and a good fighter." He offered.

Ire clenched her spare fist and nodded, "Yes!" She huffed. "Yes, I am! But does that make me enough of a dwarf?" She pouted, scratching her cheek. “Is a strong will and an ability to lose an arrow what makes enough of an impression amongst your kin?” She sighed, unclenching her fist to draw patterns into the ale spills upon the counter top.

A relaxed smile dawned Balin's merry face as he continued "Of course! Even with less! It’s what’s in here that makes us, not how hard we swing a hammer.” The old man tapped at his chest beneath his long white beard. His eyes scrambled across the many bodies in the tavern to steady on his king and extremely in trouble princes. “And it seems you've out done the youngest side of our little gathering." He chuckled, now removing his warm hand. Ire raised a brow, confused by this statement. The quick laugh that bubbled from his bearded throat caused a further stir of quizzical looks, "You managed to get the bar keep there to have a drink with you." His red apple like cheeks rose to cause the crinkle of his smiling eyes to deepen.

The sudden realisation hit her like lightning to a pole. "They broke a table over a girl?!" She gasped; shock soon turned into annoyance then finally into irritation. The old dwarf chuckled at her distaste. With a click of her tongue, a folding of her arms and a bitter looking face Ire glared at the pair sat by their uncle, "I hope they will still let them keep their room, I will not be cast out because two idiot boys decided to show off in front of a pretty maiden". She practically spat.

A nasally sigh escaped Balin, though he pulled a key much like Ire's from his garb, "We're already sorted on that note lassie. I do not know about you, but I think it's time to retire for the evening. Mahal knows I've had enough excitement for one day." He spun the key on a finger, taking a leisurely paced stroll to the stairs that led to the rooms.

Perhaps he was right, maybe an early night would help with… well not really knowing how it would help but desperate to get away from a possible secondary incident Ire followed Balin's lead, first finding Gandalf and bidding him "Night", And much the same with any other party member, though not so much the princes which she muttered a "Girl chasing fools" too. Hopefully, a good night’s rest would have her prepared for the next day.

Ire slipped into a troubled sleep, filled with anxiety of the rowdy party and how they would fill her world with dread though she found that the next day, was much the same as the one before. The party was awoken by Thorin's knocking, going down for breakfast, everyone hungover, except Balin, Gandalf, Thorin and Bilbo, setting up the ponies and horses then setting off once again.

A much of a muchness, as the party road forth, by midday the group had seemed to of perked up enough to start singing and chatting amongst themselves and as they road over the Brandywine Bridge; the huntress was thankful knowing they would have to make camp that evening. She turned to announce they had officially left the Shire, much to Bilbo's dread and yet his Took like excitement, and another day or so they would make it to Bree and that Bree meant they would finally be on the East-West Road and their journey would have truly begun.

Before that though the party found themselves passing the Old Forest and the Barrow Downs, still riding horseback. It seemed Balin had been right with his assessment of the group, lacking access to mead on tap and the knowledge that discretion was key out under the stars made the men all the more bearable.

As the day continued it seemed like the dwarves, one or a couple at a time and even Bilbo road up to the front to converse with Ire, apparently after a couple of days the majority of the party had warmed to her, talking like they had known each other for years with no inhibitions to phase them. Another feat of the Dwarves that inwardly impressed the huntress, keeping that fact to herself as she spoke in turn with the men as they continued on, until the sun started to disappear behind the woods.

Thorin, one of the few dwarves to not come natter over the day, called for the company to stop riding for the time being, that it would be more sensible to make camp. Ire couldn’t agree more, knowing a great spot just a small way away that would provide protection from the elements and a small meadow for the sure tired ponies and horses to graze at. Though having mentioned this to the great dwarf king, her place was dismissed far too sudden after it had left her lips. “We stay here.” He stated before dismounting his pony, tying the thick rope to an exposed root on the ground a small walk away to then start pulling out his bed roll and a few other items from his pack and unbuckling his axe to find a spot to go brood on.

Huffing Ire puffed her chest having attempted to argue but was dismissed again by the king under the mountain as he strode passed her searching for his new perch. She bit her tongue and dismounted, keeping her thoughts to herself now, much to the pleading eyes of the Grey Wizard, begging her not to start a fight so soon.

After the first order from the grumpy king, within twenty minutes the party had set up camp at their partially secluded hilltop, somewhat up the Downs, but with a great vantage spot over the ridge, yet it would not hide the lulling fire as the night darkened. It was clear the dwarves were to stay here and make do. It all seemed fine until Bombur, head chef of the group was putting together dinner “We need meat for the stew.” He grumbled to his brother who shook his head, “I told you not to snack on the jerky!” Bofur reprimanded, scraping out his pipe.

The bickering between the two went on for some time before Dwalin called for them to “Shut it you blubbering babes. Have someone go get us fresh meat, like Kíli, you’d shoot for us lad.” His large hand ruffled the dark-haired prince’s already tangled locks.

The bright grin on Kíli’s stubbled face spoke of how happy he would be to do so before Thorin announced that as punishment he would not allow his youngest nephew to let his arrows fly. Kili threw himself down on his roll pouting much like a toddler told no more biscuits before dinner.

Glóin took to feeding the kindling that smoked up the top of the rocky hill they resided upon, “Did anyone else bring meat with them?” He poked the small embers as Óin blew onto them, encouraging the flames to grow.

The party shook their heads and found they came up empty, it even went so far as the dwarves asking Gandalf if he could magic them up some grub. Ire had taken a seat next to Bilbo, watching the floundering hungry men, passing the hobbit an apple as she grazed on a bread roll. Sat crossed legged with her bow resting on her lap while her full quiver was balanced on her outer thigh.

The halfling confused by her inaction stashed the apple in his pocket for later. Bilbo lent to his right to question her in a quiet voice, “You have food?” she nodded, mouthful of the seedy roll she had near finished. “You are a hunter?” Again, she nodded, this time a small smile crept to her lips as she continued to chew. “You could offer to go hunting in Kíli’s stead?” but now she shook her head, swallowing the last of the bread with an “ah”. “Why not?” Pondered the hobbit as the huntress sat there, smiling away to herself.

She chuckled as the group still argued between themselves, “If they were to take notice and ask, I will go- but at the level of heated debate, I doubt they will finish before we starve.” Taking a sigh she grasped the bow then stood, throwing her quiver over shoulder, “I’ll go get something, let’s see if they notice my disappearance”, giving Bilbo a curt nod Ire slipped away into the trees.

An hour or so later, Ire came scrambling back after a very successful hunt throwing "dinner" at the feet of the round ginger cook. "I hope this is enough for everyone." She mused, slapping her hands together as if knocking off the none existent dust from her hands.

Surprised, Bombur nodded looking rather pleased with the selection of woodland critters he now had the liberty of cooking for everyone. Pigeons and rabbits would make a rich stew for the weary group to enjoy.

Bofur noticed the still floppy bodies of the huntress' victims laying on the ground by the roaring fire. "Do you want a hand with that?" He asked, stiffly rising from his spot on the floored log that most of the dwarves had decided to rest also. Bombur accepted the help, handing the rabbits to the hatted dwarf to skin and gut, whilst he plucked the rather plump wood pigeons.

Such a shame, they were all beautiful creatures, but the members of The Oakensheild party needed to eat. With an upwards stretch Ire found herself a spot far enough from the ruckus of the men she travelled with but close enough she was still accessible to them. Resting her gear on the tree next to her, she laid on her bedroll, watching the tree branches dance in the late spring breeze. Perhaps if her days similarly ended this way, it would not be so bad after all.


	3. When the Expectations are too Great, Pride and Prejudice will get in the way.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Oakensheild party has been traveling for nearly a month, yet It seems Thorin's pride has once again gotten the better of him as he continues to neglects the expertise of Ire; Whom in contrast, is finding harder to not hit the unbearable king somewhere more precious then his Arkenstone's. Will the bad weather dampen the rest of the company's spirits or will they make it to sunrise as merry as camping dwarves, hobbit and wizards can be!

They had travelled through Bree a few weeks ago now, having only managed one more night stayed at an inn.

The ponies grew weary as the sun was soon falling past the uneven horizon, dragging a blanket of clouds for the evening, threatening to burst for a long night of showers. The last thing the group wanted was to sleep in a downpour so heavy it could possibly wash them away from their camp. They needed to find shelter and fast, before the light of day could shift to the dark of night, though the dwarves wouldn't mind that so much, as natives from the mountains. Though our hobbit, wizard and Huntress strongly disagreed.

Ire road on from the medley of low flood plains and odd trees into a thicker brush searching for a suitable area for the party to call camp at. Amazingly just under the thirty-minute mark she found it, the best spot for all to sleep, an overhanging cliff wall made from solid stone had been carved out by nature to produce a neat cove for them to shelter from the brewing showers heading there way. A few spruce trees stood proud just a small way away enough to tie the ponies to and possibly gather twigs as kindling for a nice hearty fire. Yes, this spot would do marvellously in their tight situation.

Now to find the party and return to this space hoping no one else or thing would claim it in the meantime. The men having travelled the same time she had, but at a much slower rate made her decide to tie her gelding to a thick trunk surrounded by lush grass and dash out to find them on foot. The use of her legs was very much welcomed after the long hard day of riding, once again. And so, our dear huntress ran back on herself to find her party.

It had taken her 20 minutes to catch up with the dwarves, whom had begun setting up camp further downhill then advisory, under a collection of close growing trees. With a huff she shouted from a short distance "What on earth are you doing?!" Her cry making some of the softer lads jump.

It was then, Thorin, the leader of the company, a very important dwarf made himself known to her, as at this point, he was technically her boss, though in reality her loyalty laid with Gandalf. With a gruff voice he replied none to please with her question "Making camp. We stay here tonight" his scowl evident.

Oh he was a piece of work, a grumpy king. This was not the first and Ire was sure, not the last disagreement she was to have with the raging king.

Having ran back to the men she was indeed, out of breath as her heart raced and the plus evident as it thrummed between her temples in a quick but steady beat. Shaking her head Ire looked at the party’s surroundings. "You will be soaked in the night staying here. I have found a much more suitable spot, higher up with a ledge to protect us from the oncoming rain" she protested, pointing back from whence she came.

Thorin did not look happy at her refusing his command. Ire was not happy with this ill perceived campsite. It was Balin that came forward to try settle the tension, "What seems to be the matter here?" He asked carefully, hoping to play his cards right where this would end in laughter and not an argument.

Thorin growled "Our _guide"_ he sneered "has said we have chosen a poor spot to set up camp", his eyes, still narrowed glared at the woman before him.

Balin made a sound of understanding, a somewhat "Oh" sound, he tried to chuckle it off "Well it seems we're almost ready to make a fire here" he jested to the pile of twigs and leaves behind him. "If we move now, we will have to pack everything back up just to set up again" he added, trying to make his fair point to the still annoyed maiden.

She clicked her tongue, licking her teeth inside her closed mouth frown "Why did I even bother to scout ahead for a campsite if you were going to disregard it in the first place?" Her voice raised, bile spilling from every articulation, "I have left my horse back there, a twenty-minute run, perhaps a ten-minute ride. Well, I see how it is, ignore the words of the one who has slept under more stars than gold coins have passed through your hands" she huffed. Spinning to march away from the ignorant party. "IF ANYONE WISHES TO STAY DRY AND NOT WAKE WITH SODDEN SOCKS FOLLOW ME!" She bellowed over her shoulder as her storming pace drove her away from the party.

It was now Gandalf’s turn to seek equilibrium between the party "Come now Ire! Return to us and enjoy the stew mister Bombur is preparing!" He called to the rather miffed woman.

She stopped in her tracks a good ten meters from the group "I will see you at dawn!" She called back to the wizard with a bow continuing her hasty retreat before the rain could greet her rather dry body.

Gandalf shook his head as their guide vanished from view, "What might have our pathfinder in such a fit?" He questioned, hands clutching the top of old staff in bewilderment of the rather brash reaction of the brave traveller.

Thorin just growled and stormed back to where ever he was situated before the rude altercation had taken place. The wizard rolled his old eyes, he has seen everything in his existence but Thorin's ability to sulk amazed, yet infuriated his old bones. Balin took it upon himself to once again play peace keeper "The lass found it ridiculous that we chose to make camp here without informing her and that her purpose within the party seems to be redundant if Thorin keeps ignoring her advice" he sighed watching his kin still settling the grounds for there much needed rest.

Oh, this wizard needed a smoke of his pipe to deal with the headache that these small people always ended up giving him. Breathing in through his nose and humming lowly he looked down to the helpful dwarf "And what advice would that be master Dwalin?" The tired look on his face not missed by the equally exhausted dwarf.

With a stroke of his long white beard and a contented hum yet worried expression "That we should seek higher ground as miss Trotter claims we are due a down pour rather soon and that we will be sodden by the morning" a sigh fell from his lips, as the dwarf turned to look at his king who now seemed to be sharpening his dwarfish iron, "Does she sense the correct weather Gandalf? We are Durin’s folk, judging the state of the sky does not come easily to us" he admitted, lolling his eyes to the rather tall being beside him.

The nod the wizard gave opened the drained dwarf to let out a small worried croak. Gandalf gave Balin a light tap on his back as if to soothe the poor fellow. "Fear not, when the clouds break, I will have the way to our path finder to our company and hopefully _Thorin_ "- the dwarf kings name left Gandalf’s tongue slightly too bitter "will see sense to listen to Ire in the future, she is far more accomplished than she leads you to believe" he reassured Balin.

By now Bilbo had wandered over to the pair of calmer fellows of which he preferred the company of "How so?" Questioned the curious Hobbit.

Gandalf turned and raised a wiry sliver brow "How what?" He mused, now pulling his pipe from its twisted spot in the hollow of his staff.

Bilbo nodded to Gandalf, mouth drawn down into a comical frown, criticising himself for asking in the first place, "How accomplished is she- Ire, I mean?" He stuttered awkwardly.

Debating to keep up his mysterious old man routine or to just be straight with the curious hobbit, Gandalf decided a half answer would suffice. "She has a remarkable ability in her own areas of expertise" he rambled, cleaning his pipe, readying to use it to calm his nerves. Bilbo blinked, stationary as his mind rushed "Pardon?" He hoped the wizard would elaborate. Said wizard chuckled as he sparked the tobacco to ready himself for a puff or ten. Bilbo was having none of it, "Gandalf, what abilities does Miss Ire have? You claim I would make for a good burglar for my light footedness, what makes Ire a good guide?" He furrowed his brows, his shaggy fringe falling just shy of his eyes, irritating him. It had grown since he left the Shire.

With a deep inhale Gandalf took a moment savouring the smoke now deep in his lungs before exhaling a large ring, willing it to fly up to dance around the lowest branches of the trees. Now he could deal with the questions of an overly curious hobbit, "You see Bilbo..." a spark of genius ignited his cryptic response, or so he felt, "why not go ask her yourself, I'm sure she would appreciate the company" he beamed to the small Hobbit.

Was he for real? Said Hobbit was in a half mind to snap at the wizard but soon thought otherwise. "Would Miss Ire want me asking?" He queried carefully.

After having let loose a few more rings Gandalf looked down to his precious burglar "Possibly not, but that should not stop you, go, follow her now and make camp where she resides for the evening, it will help her feel more utilised and as I said, she would appreciate the company" another ring flew up to dance niche like the others.

Balin now knowing what was up between the two none dwarves and decided it was safe to go back to try to convince his kin to move up the hill. And with a brisk nod, he bided his curt farewell to that conversation but kept an ear out for any possible changes.

Bilbo, now curious chose to follow Gandalf’s command to join the parties guide. He gathered his things and with assistance from Gandalf remounted his pony. The other dwarves curious to where their burglar must be heading began to swarm his way before he truly could set off. "Where are you going?" barked Gloin.

"Aye, what's happening?" Asked Bofur, scratching his cheek with his currently lit pipe.

"You're not leaving are you Bilbo?" Questioned Fili, spearing his sword into the fresh earth.

Feeling rather closed in Bilbo kicked Myrtle into a trot to pass them off, not before calling "Ask Gandalf!" As he disappeared from the party.

Thorin, not merely impressed by this glared at Gandalf, still sharpening his blade, "Where does Mr Baggins think he’s heading?" His deep voice rolled.

Very glad he had started sooner with his pipe then Thorin could throw another hissy fit Gandalf leaned against a steady tree speaking his words to the world around him then to anyone in particular "Master Baggins is off to join Miss Trotter at the higher camp for this evening" he delivered with a worsened tone.

The sky had darkened now, much so that the dwindling light of the day was cut off sooner than the dwarves had anticipated. Thorin looked almost enraged at the thought of one of his company leaving to go stay with that supposed know it all. He would show her. Stay here all night as would the rest of his men. It was at the end of Thorin calling out that if any of his kin left the camp now, they would have to walk the length of tomorrows journey with no aid of a pony as forfeit; did the heavens open much like Ire had predicted.

Gandalf walked over to his horse, untied it from the trunk and mounted it with more grace than a being of his age should possess. Thorin stood seething at the wizard, "Where do you think you are going?" The rain having already soaked his dark hair as it clung to his face rather then it's natural bounce, made the mountain king to be appear far more menacing.

But a wet dwarf meant nothing to Gandalf as he kicked his horse to start moving "I, Thorin Oakensheild, am off to a dry space where the reasonable lay their heads, until dawn" and like that, he was gone from the dwarven camp.

Cloaks were thrown on in a hurry, as were the hoods, gathering their tools and equipment the Oakensheild party dwarf only members scrambled to save it all from themselves.

Balin stood next to Thorin, holding the man’s cloak in front of him. Almost regretting his small tirade and spiting his stubbornness he took it and threw it over his already very wet shoulders. The older dwarf nodded silently as he rounded up the other to get the ponies.

Thorin had an apology to give and boy it wouldn't be pretty.

Meanwhile, our dear Bilbo had made it to Ire's camp just in time for the rainfall to begin. Having noticed the hobbit riding up towards her Ire went down to help him off his pony and to usher him and his over-sized pack to the shelter of the cove, having already set a fire, she had taken to preparing her own dinner.

Ire returned back to cutting up what Bilbo assumed was rabbit as he found a spot the opposite side of the fire to set his role for the night, not often did he find himself near the cosy campfires, it was either too smokie or the dwarves took place by it to steal the warmth.

She hummed a tune that sounded somewhat like a lullaby he had heard before and the space between them felt comfortable. It was, it really was before they both decided to indulge into a conversation, not before each-other could fully ask a question did the babble at the same time.

Bilbo, being the gentleman he was, allowed Ire to ask first "Ah, well, I was wondering what made you come over here when you could have been enjoying the company of the men just down the hill" she grinned to him, seemingly in a far better mood then when she left them.

Nodding the strawberry blonde hobbit paused for a moment before clicking his thumb and fingers together "I can answer that with my question!" He now smiled to her, happy with how the conversation was far deeper intellectually already then his inherently strange ones he had had with the majority of the rest of the party, "I wanted to know what you did before this and Gandalf said it was best, I ask you directly and also I needed a break from their.... charm" he pondered at the end, not wanting to insult his new friends, yet a hobbit did need their quiet time.

The woman threw the meat into the already bubbling stew mounted above the small fire, though the blaze did lap at the bowls base. Wiping the blood from the knife onto a rag she hummed again, "Curious, are we? Well, it's no secret I was a hunter but perhaps I should be more specific?" She looked to the suspenders wearing man to her left.

Bilbo nodded "we have the entire night" he added quickly, his Took side soon bubbling over him, excited for a story like when he was a young hobbit-boy.

Putting away her small blade the bronze haired woman tapped her chin with for the first time Bilbo had seen, bare hands. Usually, they were bound in very worn old leather gloves, brown naturally or through the stories they must have lived, he did not know, but what amazed him about her hands was how slender they were, he had seen her do incredible and powerful things yet her hands were so dainty, much like how one would describe a human princess- maybe she was royalty! He would just have to listen and find out. Her thinking face soon turned into a fond expression, "I used to deliver cargo" she brimmed.

That... that was not what Bilbo had expected, "oh" he sounded disappointed.

Ire didn't know whether to be insult or amused by the hobbit’s reaction. She chose to giggle then groan as she continued "It was always very expensive stuff, you see, me and my sister were paid guards for these deliveries, making sure they always made their destinations. It was fine for the longest time, just bandits and the like, but soon enough as the lands have gotten darker, it became orcs and goblins. I myself have become quiet the orc hunter" she cleared her throat, "I hunt orcs causing problems for towns and villages. Paid by the head you see" she rolled up a trouser leg to show off her left calf. Scars littered up and down the pale appendage. "Some-times they can be tricky". She tucked the bottom of the leg back into her fur lined boot.

Now the poor hobbit started blankly before himself at the deliverer, nay, slayer, before him. Coming to his senses rather than just smacking his lips like a mackerel out of a barrel "Gandalf wasn't wrong" he said almost still in a form of shock.

Eyes now wide and curious at that remark Ire leaned towards the hobbit "What has that old man been saying about me?" She asked with a smile.

Bilbo was about to answer when a voice boomed "that curious fellows will find their answers from the source" Gandalf, wet and hungry ushered himself to the protection of the cove.

Ire snorted watching the quick paced man slide under the rock almost colliding with his great height, “Did the livid bear, Thorin, disagree with you too?” she snidely chuckled, leaning forwards to stir the pot of soon to be boiling stew.

The grey wizard spied himself a spot that would do him well for the night, claiming it as his own, lowering himself in a stiff manner, out stretching his long limbs with a deep exhale. His head swayed to take a glance at his fellows “It is common knowledge that the dwarves are known as stubborn, but the lengths of Thorin’s pig-headedness never fails to astonish me” he suspired with a thoughtful lower upon his aged face.

Bilbo shuffled awkwardly reaching for his filled pack, it had been set further back then he initially realised as he rolled back having placed too much weight higher on himself overbalancing with an “Oof!” his chin grazed the gravelly floor. He pushed himself up with a small force. The hobbit had found that over these few weeks of travelling and lack of additional hobbit timed meals had him loosing his rather plush stomach, thankful for his suspenders now the only thing keeping his bottoms up around his waist. Oh, how he longed for his hole in Bagend, yet, this had been some of the most fun he had had in yonks! “Blast it!” he cursed getting up to storm to his frustratingly just out of place pack.

While the irritated hobbit rummaged and pillage through his items Ire and Gandalf shared a quick worried look. The wizard just coughed, nodding to the hobbit. The huntress rolled her eyes and retreated from the fire to her own pack to pull out a palm sized jar. Turning to face the halfling, she noticed he had made his way back to his previous space, red diary in hand, as he jotted into it with a slight furious pace.

Ire clasped the jar and wandered next to Bilbo, crouching to his level “Are you okay? You seem rather… upset?” she questioned still concealing her small deep green jar.

The Baggins’ shook his head and sniffed with a huff, “I am perfectly fine Miss Trotter” he snapped his answered, still scrawling away.

Not wanting to upset the obviously tense hobbit further she pulled her pot into the light, mulling up the strength in her to softly coax his vision from the book, “Well the graze on your chin looks rather raw, perhaps some poultice could help calm the redness?” she placed the pot in front of his fuzzy feet before backing away, “Just a dab normally works well for me” she mused, returning to her meaty brew now boiling away in the pot.

It took a few more minutes of Bilbo scribbling away before some form of weight lifted from his shoulders and he returned to his quizzical cheery nature. Placing his diary down with warm smile the hobbit finally took notice of the pot sat by his toes “Just a dab” he echoed, taking the pot to investigate, becoming obsessed by the seal on its glazed side. “Whose stamp is this?” he questioned with a wiggle of his nose.

Gandalf hummed, looking to the pot, squinting with a thin-lipped pout, “That seems to be the mark of the _Lórien_ realm” he mused, “How did you come by this my dear girl?” his eyes looked to the huntress as the light of the flames licked the wall of the cove.

Ire had now taken a seat once again, knees drawn to her chest as she watched the camp fire blacken her stewing pot with ash and char, “It was a gift” she sighed, basking in the lulling warmth, though her own hunger kept her very much awake, the rich smell of the rabbit and quickly thrown together stock made her stomach growl ever so ferociously.

The Hobbit’s fingers studied the raised words and knotted tree that danced ever so delicately, “It’s beautiful” he murmured, “Whom ever gifted it to you must have thought you special” he announced, eyes still scanning every detail he could find.

The wizard nodded “Indeed, not often do elven cures make their ways from the Woodland realm, even less so at the hands of a mere hunter” Gandalf had pulled his pipe out by now, having smoked it as he contemplated.

Bilbo, held the jar cupped between his hand as he lent forwards “But you’re not” he stated “Ire said she hunted Orcs and Goblins” he furrowed his brows, slouching in place.

She laughed, “I do Master Baggins, or did before joining yourself and the others, though I say I carry precious cargo, I do also guard another treasure, this time at the request of a dear wizard; whom once had me tricked in believing he was a frail old man” she threw a bowl to said wizard and filled another.

Gandalf caught the bowl with no issue, merely chuckling “That was your choice to believe that Miss Trotter, I had no intention to be perceived in that way”. He watched as Ire poured one lot of stew and then another, “But I am pleased you agreed to take up my request” he hummed as she carried one of the full bowls to him.

Taking the empty bowl Ire muttered a quick “It’s hot” before taking the second filled one to Bilbo, “I would again, though I do find it quiet challenging, but moments like this makes it barrable” she beamed.

Curiosity and inpatients possessed the hobbit “What has this got to do with hunting?” he begged much like a small child, though accepting the meal gratefully.

It was Ire’s turn now to pour her own stew, setting the kettle drum aside allowing the fire to eat away at the logs and air fuelling it. “My skills are here to protect the company Master Baggins” she stated bluntly, swirling the bowl before taking a sip from the wooden rim.

Having blown and slurped the stew Gandalf placed his bowl down to let it cool a while longer, “I asked Miss Trotter come along to aid in protecting you and the dwarves. Though they may carry weapons, few have seen battle and even littler have seen what lurks in the shadows of this world” he took this as a chance to start once again on his pipe.

Bilbo took on a confused air as he thoughtlessly sipped his stew too. “But you said she was here as a guide?” desperately the hobbit needed answers, it was all becoming tangled in his racing mind, all these new facts over lapping and defacing others.

The rain grew heavier and the air moist, that now it had come to the attention of the wizard that the dwarves could really be that stubborn to stay in place, or perhaps they found it harder to make there way in the current downpour. Watching the wet vista Gandalf’s voice took a somewhat jester’s approach “As you have seen, Thorin is quite incapable of following directions, let alone a read a common map” his old voice chuckled, “That is a known fact amongst the rest of his followers. If they knew Ire’s true purpose amongst us, well, they would grow offence and the last thing we want is a group of moody dwarves” he finished with an amused smile, now taking the bowl to his lips once again. Though soon his smile turned in to a quirked brow, “Still, how did you come by such a gift? Did Grolrin trade with the _Lothlórien_ elves?”. Bilbo listened with open ears, so very curious about the rare jar in his hands.

Sating her hunger with another mouthful Ire relaxed, please with the warmth in her stomach. “Nay, simpler. Though yes, **_Adad_** had a small deal” content, the huntress took to untying her braids from the ruthlessly lively locks. “It was a gift from my grandfather” her voice was pleasant as her eyes closed as deft fingers untangled the beads and knots. “The inscription on the pot you hold Bilbo is an old elven charm, well wishing safety to whom ever carries it” soon the familiar words fell from her lips “ _Galo Anor erin râd lîn_ ” she smiled, opening her eyes to see a flabbergasted Hobbit and a rather amused Wizard.

Stuttering, Bilbo finally managed “That was- that’s what it says?” brown eyes wide in amazement reigniting his interest in the scribing across the small jar. “What does that mean?” he asked, completely captivated by the poultice.

Before the half dwarf had the chance, Gandalf translated “It means, May the sun shine on your path” tugging his loose knit scarf tight the old wizard finished his dinner leisurely, “Since when did you know Sindarin young one?” he mused, opting to watch the trees in the continuous shower.

Throwing another log onto the flames she thought for a moment, “I’m not that young, but, hum… I picked it up quite quickly, _Amir_ was happy when I did, so much so we took a trip to show off to _~~G’adar~~ _(Grandfather) for an entire week! My brother Ira, has no tongue for any new language, but Irk, my sister, she is alright, though prefers common she believes everyone has the right to know what she says” just as she laughed the sound of shouts and whinnies could be heard off in the distance. “Oh, Bilbo, put it on now and slip it back into my bag, I’ll go see this commotion” her laughs soon dead as she reached for her bow and sword.

A rather heavy slap of a staff on her hands made her yip and jump back a foot, “No need for those my girl, that will be the rest of our party coming to re-join us now” Gandalf mused, watching as a pony then two then five came into view along side some depressingly drenched dwarves who seemed to be swearing amongst themselves.

Carefully Bilbo opened the elvish jar, skimming his finger onto the cold paste. “I’m surprised they came” he added, applying on the remedy.

Ire pulled her gloves on from there place in her pocket and bundled herself into her thick cloak only her head was visible, that and the muddled mess of bronze hair that added a further layer on insulation. “I will dance and sing a ditty for you Bilbo if Oakensheild appears with them” she grumbled, certain the dark-haired king would be wallowing on a tree stump glaring at the floor as he used his wet stone to sharpen his axe.

Having casted a light from his staff Gandalf stood, waving said staff tip now aglow to help the weary dwarves find their way, somewhat faster. “I would hold your tongue there Miss Ire, It seems Thorin is leading the pack.” As those words found there way into the damp night air did familiar faces become visible, like the wizard had said, Thorin’s hard face was illuminated by the light casted.

Sodden and miserable the thirteen dwarves tied their ponies and lugged the hastily packed sacks and skins under the protection of the cove with grumbles, dripping long trails. Bilbo had returned the small pot, speedily returning to his spot before one of the drenched men could steal his spot, though on his return he slapped Ire’s shoulder chuckling, a cheeking grin “I look forward your performance”. The hobbit took his place all while greeting his rather down counterparts.

Ire rolled her eyes, mouthing a small threat to the suddenly quiet halfling, though quickly she turned to her side where the dwarves that plopped themselves down with grunts and groans. Biting her lip, she desperately tried holding back her laughter as the individuals wrung out their hair and beards. Her cloak covered form quaked as she watched, a small snort squeaking through her nose drew the attention of the dwarf closest to her.

Said dwarf was in fact the eldest prince Fíli, “What’s wrong with you? Did you catch a cold or something? You’re shivering.” He probed, shrugging of his thick fur lined coat.

Cheeks round with held in sniggers, she finally burst in a loud round of closed, eye watering laughter. The rest of the party stared in confusion as her head rocked from left to right, unable to see past her cloak that she was in fact clutching her ribs as she cackled away. 

The blonde prince shot a glance to his brother, whom was as clueless as he, “What in Mahal’s forge has gotten into you?” a confuse smile graced his features as his and the others stripping continued until the most of them were down to their skivvies.

Drawing deep breaths, a hand emerged from the bundle to wipe her tears of joy away. “You look like drowned rats!” she heaved, fanning her warm face in an attempt to gather her wits. Finally, having regain some sense she opened her eyes to the world around her, initially unaware of the forest of hairy legs and discoloured pants and vests. When her sight adjusted to the glare of the fire, she took a glance to her right to point and laugh at Fíli’s rain slick appearance, though her mocking thoughts soon left her mind when she noticed the sudden lack of attire on bodies, instead up on make shift clothes lines.

Fíli snorted at her remark, “and you look like fuzzy grub that’s been caught up in a flash bomb, ever hear of a bristle brush?” he retorted taking a seat by her, Kíli taking his spot next to his brother, hands on Fíli’s hair as soon as he was level to help the state it had become. The usual walking arsenal poked at the cloak containing the flustered maiden. “What? You’re saying you’ve never heard of a brush? What are you, a wild woman?” he joked.

Kíli laughed at his brother’s words, “Aye, look at her, I’m amazed she can get that into plaits” he chuckled working his way through a thick braid running down Fíli’s back.

Dwalin flicked the dark-haired nephew of Thorin on the ear, “Speaking of yourself there Kíli? When was the last time you brushed yours? At least the lass brushed hers this morning” he berated, more then happy to tease his sparing students.

Fíli clicked his fingers in front of the huntress as she sat there unresponsive, "He doesn't, it’s either me or uncle who does… Hello there, you still with us?” his poking moved from the cloak to her head now, specifically her temple.

A small mumbled whisper fell from the half-dwarfs’ lips as she slapped away the bothersome had, grabbing her lose hair to cover her face, blocking the view ahead. It was at moments like these the maiden had realised how out of the loop she was with men, in general. Her fair heart was struggling to cope with all the bare skin, though in reality, so much body hair, copious amounts and that was saying something considering the flocks worth that weighted down her head.

Fíli was about to ask she repeat herself and louder when “AGH! Kee! Quit pulling!” he cried. “Are you trying to make me bold?!” he growled going to swipe at his brother for his act of hair treason.

Dwalin bent forwards with a brow raised, the back of his large warrior’s hands resting on his hips, “What’s wrong with that?” The princes were once again intimidated by there old teacher, as if would ever stop being so. In an attempt to appease the old warrior, the pair scrambled for words to excuse their blasphemy.

By now the others had bustled themselves past just hanging up their clothes to dry and to once again establishing dinner, stoking up the fire and taking watch. The once spacious dry cove had now become well stocked with damp bodies all fighting for a chance to warm themselves by the fire. Having decided that being surrounded by half dressed men was too much, Ire weaved through them to sit at the edge of the cove to avoid looking at the group. Quickly she relieved Nori from his place as look out to take his shift for that evening.

It took a while before any of the men attempted to interact with her. It was Bofur asking if she was going to eat with them sometime soon, she called over her should “I already ate thanks!” not turning around in fear she got another eyeful. Unbeknownst to her the party had taken to throwing their cloaks on after they had dried out some, much in a similar manner she was wearing hers.

When she heard heavy foot-falls approach she deliberately kept her tiring eyes on the ponies and horse just down the ridge. The poor creatures would defiantly not need a bath for a while, their riders on the other hand, well, Ire was in a half mind to pull out her soap bar and give them a good scrubbing individually in the continuous downpour.

When the loud steps finally ceased a deep grumble was muttered from behind her. Sight still straight ahead the woman waited for a moment, realising that was all the dwarf behind her was not going to say anything more she coughed once. No reply from the voice, with a sigh she craned her head to the side, praying she wouldn’t have to turn all around, “Pardon? I didn’t hear you?”

The aggravated exhale from the man behind her filled the pit of her stomach with dread and frustration. “I said- can I talk with you?” The mountain kings somewhat tired voice repeated himself.

Still not facing him she agreed “Of course Sire, what is it?” Ire asked in her least condescending tone. She had to behave, for Gandalf!

This was obviously not how he wanted to do this, it was rude to not face someone as you conversed, let alone the party leader-King that he was. Though Ire’s voice agreed her body langue was spiky and dismissing. His blue eyes twitched, much like his upper lip at this insolence. “If you do not wish to speak just say so girl- no need to play along so poorly” He growled. It seemed his patience for uncivilised behaviours was thin.

Ire held back a scoff, “I am listing to you Thorin, and you can hear me just fine! What is it you want?” It seemed Ire’s patients for false accusations was also thin.

Fists clenched, sneer tugged lips and chin down glare ready and waiting Thorin took a breath before losing his grip on nothing to drag his hands across his grey speckled hair. “I wish for you to face me when we discus important matters” simple etiquette, that’s all he asked.

Oh, the dreaded request. Slapping her cheeks in a quick rapid motion the huntress attempted to get past the idea of underwear frolicking men to appease the waiting man behind her. With a gulp and much effort, she spun around with a wince. “Of course, Thorin”. Her surprise when the hair had been concealed under cloaks and hoods. “What… erm… What was it you wished to speak of?” Her curious and confused eyes wandered over the scene behind the mountain king.

As glaringly obvious as a ingot melting in a forge Thorin took it upon himself to keep a level head, after all, he was there for one thing and one thing only. “It seems I-” No, this would not do, if she was not willing to focus on him then he had no reason to do this, “You have less respect then my nephews. _Inuthi, Zhahyad khuzd Uzbad_!” his deep throat barked.

The venomous glare from her as their eyes met, meaning she had been listing to him, even if it may not have seemed like it. The camp fell silent apart from the crackle of the fire. Bilbo looked around confused by it all, Thorin had just confirmed with Gandalf that apologising would be the best step forward and now he looked like he was about to be beaten with his own spine for what ever he had just said.

The princes watched having heard themselves used as reference while the others watch their king lose his temper once again.

Balin shook his head at this foolishness.

Dwalin chose to watch the floor as he lent against a rock wall, though the hand on his axe spoke more then his down caste expression could.

The other watching in horror sat tense, just waiting to see how it would go.

Bilbo whispered over to Bofur and Bombur, whom had stolen Ire’s space to cook, dish up and now relax; to ask what Thorin had just said. Just before Bofur replied, Ire took to raising her voice in Khuzdul in return. The brothers looked to each other and nodded.

Bombur spoke normally, “Thorin said- Lesser girls should respect there dwarven lords” he shrugged, his finger inside the bowl wiping it clean to suck.

Bofur listened to Ire for a moment more “And the lass says-” he cleared his throat and in the highest voice he could muster “Well grumpy old dwarf lords shouldn’t be parading around in their undies like a wee baby if it’s respect, they want”, this caused a snigger or two from some of the others in the group.

The two at the edge continued to argue. The pair of mining brothers decided to take it upon themselves to keep up the translation work. “You have no right to judge what a dwarf does!”

“I have all the rights I need; it is you who judges too quickly Oakensheild! I face you like you wish and the you start screaming at me about respect! I find it hard to respect someone so caught up in themselves that they can not see the discomforts of others!”

“Discomfort?! That is why you run off so often? It’s more like a child sulking”

“You are the one that sulks! No, I only leave so I don’t shoot you!”

“You don’t have the aim woman”

“You don’t have a clue”

The way the argument was going it would soon turn it a fight, Gandalf could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand. Groaning the old wizard took it upon himself to nip the yelling in the bud. Forcing his way past the smaller men he got to the edge of the cove, staff in hand, taking it upon himself to knock sense into the pair, quite literally. “See here, Thorin came over to apologise for doubting you Ire and since none of you have live nor courted a woman in so long it is obvious that miss Ire became distressed by your lack of apparel. Now off to bed! All of you! I shall keep watch, you are all daft creatures” he ushered them away from the edge of the cove, shoving them with his long staff he held horizontal.

Both offending parties attempted to retaliate but the wizard had had a very long day so had no empathy for the pair before him. He was too old to be dealing with petty squabbles amongst a group of so-called adults. And with one swift shove Ire and Thorin were left in the middle off the camp.

The king’s eyes narrowed as he seethed at the wizard. Ire on the other hand looked ashamed, maybe it was the best to apologise herself and to thank him from the apology yet to actually be said. “ ** _ai-latunsuwê_** ” her focus on Thorin, though her anger she had been wearing a minute ago had diminished, her eyes still met his, carrying far more depth to then the beads of fire they were moments ago.

Oakensheild took a moment, letting the words ring around his ears for a small while longer. His stunned expression softened “No” his voice was fair and calm, unlike how the huntress had heard him speak so often before. “You have no need to ask that of me” he sighed; rough hand rubbed his exacerbated face. “It has been a trying day. We will discus this in the morning”. For the first time Thorin looked tired, not just exhausted physically, but mentally and emotionally. He looked fragile and everyone could see it, though no one would say. Thorin was a noble man, though his desperation for his rightful place as king under the mountain twisted his mind and his heart far too often, blinding himself from the small things around him.

Ire gave a slight bow “as you wish” she responded softly, leaving the tired king be for the rest of the night. The huntress found herself heading back to where her roll was laid before her little tiff with the leader of the group. To her surprise there was Bofur, Bombur and Bilbo in her place. Ire walked over, weaving between the rest of the party until she stood tall above the bed thieves. “Ahem” she announced, “Comfy?” she stared down with her hands wresting on her hips.

Bombur and Bilbo scooted aside whilst Bofur was sprawled, one arm propping his grinning head up, the other lay on his upwards jutting hip, his grounded leg bent at the knee while his upped one pointed straight like he was pirouetting. “Aye, very” he chuckled, “Why?” he inquired, hoping this would lead to something funny.

Ire’s hands moved from her hips to her chest as she crossed her arms shaking her head at the miner at her feet, “Making sure you’re okay to stay like that while Ori sketches you, I think you’ll have to sit- I mean lay for a while” she flouted. Nodding over to the younger member of the house of Ri as he wrote and sketched into his large leather-bound book.

Bofur whistle, doffing his hat to said Ri, “Oi Ori! Draw me like one of your town girls!” he called, quickly returning his arm and then to smoulder at the poor scribe.

Confused and caught off guard Ori panicked and stuttered in an attempt to get out of the mess that Bofur had got him into, flustered and unamused he threw his hood over his head to hide his red cheeks.

Dori threw a quick glare to Bofur, whom had remained in place, instead now blowing kisses to anyone who met his eyes. The grey-haired Ri scoffed, “Come off of it you desperate **_wattock_**!” His attention completely on his younger cousin, Dori had yet to notice the wide-eyed stares from the surrounding party.

Nori quickly shot up and over to his older brother, placing a quick hand, “Yet you can’t forge a spoon, Dori!” he chuckled nervously, looking up to check on the black-haired miner.

Bofur and the others (except Bilbo, whom was still confused by any snippets of the dwarf’s language throw in midsentence) watched Nori and soon they followed suite, though this time with real laughter. The hobbit looked to Ire with pleading eyes, “What did that mean?” he questioned.

Ire shrugged off her cloak as she kneeled beside Bilbo to whisper the answer “it means a failed miner- an insult to there cast” she cocked her head quick to the pair of brothers behind her, the ginger sat ideally, as if nothing had been said in the first place, while jet haired one laughed with his friends, though not as boastfully as before. The huntress stood up and threw her cloak over Bofur’s exposed, skivvies wearing form. “Careful, you’ll catch a cold letting it all out like that” she teased, squeezing in between the current wearer of her cloak and Bilbo.

Bofur sat up, holding the dark cloak in one hand while resting the other on the gravelly floor to balance himself up, staring at it for a moment before his classic bright grin stole his lips, “I get it now, you’re embarrassed of the male body aren’t yeh lass!” he pointed with his cloaked hand with spring in his arm, “Nothing to be ashamed of, it’s all natural, you’ll see one for yourself soon enough- actually I’m surprised you haven’t already-” he was quickly cut off by the elbow in his ribs.

Ire, red faced and feeling scorned pouted “Alright! Alright! That’s quite enough thank you!” she huffed, tugging her cloak back to wrap herself up and thud onto the floor, “No more on my personal life!” she shot at the grinning dwarf as he played his braid ever so innocently.

It soon went quiet after the last round of laughs, everyone settling down for the night. Bofur eventually moved, after Ire swiped his hat as he bantered with the princes about some daftest stories they could tell. Ire soon bartered for him to shift over. After a while she turned over to poke the hatted dwarf on his shoulder, with a quick jab he soon grumbled a small “What _nithul_?” he turned his sleepy head to face her.

With a small daft smile, she bundled herself back into her cocoon before whispering, “You’re the best town girl we have”. A lazy hand emerged from his roll to slap her in the ribs with a snort. She felt it, he really caught her good, but that didn’t stop the small giggle that arose from her.

Retracting his heavy arm Bofur lulled his head back up. “I know” he sighed before soft snore flew from him. Nothing like Bombur’s great racket, though surprisingly, the round of heavy breathing helped Ire find some peace and so once again she fell into her slumber. The party slept fairly well, though the air humid from the rain and the summer’s heat they slept well, pity not many nights like these would be had again during this adventure.


	4. Why roast them when they can be gutted?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acceptance is finally on the table for the half dwarven huntress; then all is thrown into disarray by three unpleasant cave trolls and an unexpected orc pack attack. Will everything settle or will more tension arise? 
> 
> This chapter follows more from the film, some dialog and general flow, though all is from Ire's P.O.V like the other chapters. I feel like the film is more exciting for these scenes so that's my excuse for using them. I like Radagast so of course I'm bringing him in.  
> Merry Christmas 2020!

A few days had passed since the cove altercation. Just as Thorin said, that conversation continued the next day and within it, a full apology. He admitted her aid with his lack of direction, her advice when choosing a place to sleep and her display on how to search for clean water may have saved the companies lives on more than one occasion.

Admittedly Ire blushed lightly at his praise as never before had she had a king speak so highly of her. She took the apology with pride and thanked Thorin for his openness.

From then forth he listened to her and her expert words much more intently, not taking advantage of her experience would have been a fool’s choice, so much so he chose to be a fool no longer.

Though eventually, after an extended days riding, in an attempt to catch the hours lost in the earlier days of their expedition did the King lose his temper. "Surely we must be somewhere suitable to stop, we need rest, the ponies need rest" he called, an urgency rang through his throat as he continued "If we do not stop now, we will not ride tomorrow" His piercing eyes focused on the huntress at the front of the pack.

Ire halted, "You wish to stay here where the kindling you would light would spread across this moorland?" She did not wish to anger Thorin, nor antagonize him, but they seemed to be on two different stamina’s, the king reaching his limit.

Gandalf called for Thorin to listen to Ire and attempted to confirm the girl’s assumptions of the land. "We will stop soon Thorin, just bear with it for a small time longer" the old wizard called.

Thorin, cursed to the air as they continued on. It was not long before he and his brethren started to complain together.

Ire found this rather unbecoming of the party and borderline unbearable. "Fine, Fine!" She hollered, "If you wish to rest, be my guest! But I will be pushing onwards!" She shook her head and prepared to kick.

"What about us?" Called one of the men.

"Aye, what happened to you leading us".

She rolled her eyes and pointed to the sun "Follow the shadow it casts until you reach me! I will be following the road for now. If I do not see you by sun down I will return" and so was gone, her and Bumble took off all too quickly.

She was sure the dwarves would be fine for a few hours, they had Gandalf after all, and much like before she was simply scouting ahead. Ire road onwards for a short while before coming across an abandoned homestead- "strange" she thought, "I swear there was a farming family here". Thoughtlessly she road on passing through the woods until she saw the lands before her flatten out into a rocky dull looking glade. Her and Bumble took a short rest there, for an hour she waited, brushing her beloved creature and herself. When the light of day began to fade and she heard nor saw no sign of her party and soon found herself far up on the saddle of her steed. She back tracked best she could to follow the dwindling sun. A sudden pit in her stomach dropped as she felt something was off.

Surely if they had followed suit like she had said she would have caught then by now. Deeper and deeper she road doubling back on her fair ride away.

She hoped they had stayed put where she had left them so took a cut through the forest completely bypassing the ruined farmhouse. No instead she stumbled upon a foul stench, one that caused Bumble to holt and rear. It smelt like a form past death, rotting, fermenting, like it was puss oozing from a plague victim. In the dark of the night, moon cut out by the shifting trees Ire had come across a troll horde, a well-established one, one that was still in use.

That pit sunk deeper, causing the bones in her legs to ache. This was not too far from them. And now with arrow drew upon a resting bow she road once again in hope she would find her company. Reaching her destination there was no sign of a recent camp, not even one of a few hours age. Damn! They weren't there, but no signs of a struggle meant they had not been taken by nothing nasty.

Ire dismounted when she heard a rustle from nearby, she motioned for Bumble to back up, which he did as she hid them behind the tree line. Bow up, string pulled, arrow notched, she held her breath and narrowed her eyes, watching for movement. Silent she was as to hear her surroundings and then she saw it!

She loses her arrow and let it fly. It made a rather solid "kerchunk" as it bit into the target. A deep voice grumbled in a language foreign to her and a light bloomed at the top of her target, a staff. Not just any staff, but that belonging to the Grey Wizard she had been travelling with. Gandalf stepped out looking around suspiciously. "Come out now, or I will force you to do so!" He announced.

Ire tugged Bumble into Gandalf's sight along with herself "It is me! I am so sorry Gandalf, had I known I would have not shot at you- I can barely make shapes in this dark, let alone faces" she pardoned herself, desperate to reconcile with the wizard.

He took an old liver spotted hand to the arrow wedge in his staff and yanked it out with some force, a small grumble left his lips before he turned to girl and her horse "All is fine my child, but why are you here and not with the others?" He mused, handing the bolt back.

Ire looked around and groaned "I assumed you would be with them..." a moment of thought "why aren't you?" She questioned, returning the slightly blunted arrow back to her quiver.

The huff that left the wizards creased face spoke loudly of 'why' he left them. "There are many things I will tolerate" he shook his head thinking back to his conversation with the king under the mountain, "but thoughtlessness and poor decisions against the advice of others I will not".

Ire nodded "Thorin" she hummed, petting Bumble in the white light of the wizard’s staff.

The side glance given from the grey eyes agreed "Yes. Thorin" he chuffed. Studying the worried look on the girls face he pressed "what has you so riled my girl?"

Ire was quick to answer "I found a live troll horde and I have yet to see any sign of life from the company I fear for them. Gandalf, I fear I have failed you" she whimpered, looking out into the dark woods.

The wizard gestured to the steed "you have not failed me until their last breaths have gone. Come now, we will find them, they were left at the farm- it will be faster on horse"

Ire agreed both saddling up one after another to set off once again. "The one in ruins?" She checked. The old wizard nodded his confirmation. "Then let us move with haste" she kicked and off they went, Gandalf holding casting the light from his staff ahead to illuminate their path, so there was no way they would trip and fall.

It took a while to return to the farm come camp and a further while to track down the missing dwarves, ponies (and one horse) and hobbit that had been taken, much to both the huntress and wizards fears.

When they made it to the camp, it was obvious they were still intending to stay there overnight, having left the fire, that was now the glowing embers and burnt stew in the kettle drum. There bags and packs were all mislaid, the only things missing was their bodies, ponies and weapons.

Missing weapons meant they were planning on a fight.

Ire looked to the wizard, panic evident in her eyes "They've been gone at least a couple of hours, the stew is cold and is unfinished. They must have rushed off if they have left food" she surmised.

The wizard agreed "then we must find them, we will see the sun in an hour or so" his words sent a pang of terror deep in her chest. The construction that was anxiety coiled round her lungs like a boa.

Looking up she saw ropes for the ponies just in the tree line, "they took the ponies" she dashed over. The old wizard followed in with long strides.

Both quickly took notice of the turned over trees "that’s not good" Gandalf exclaimed.

Ire hushed the old man when she thought she heard- she did, Bilbo, somewhat projecting his voice and low grumbles that replied. Not quite close enough to make out what they were saying it was obvious her and the wizard needed to move in closer.

She motioned to Gandalf to follow her as they crept closer to the amber glow through the trees and the voices of large beings discussing -how to cook dwarf. Oh dear.

Taking in the full situation as they hid behind trees the pair saw three cave trolls- Ire gave a mouthed "told you so" to the wizard who rolled his eyes before they both took focus again. Somehow, they were all in bags, except the handful being rolled over the fire on a make shift spit. Being the side of the clearing, they were at they could not get to the others bagged up across the troll camp.

Some mentioning of seasoning and the pair looked to each other half amused half horrified at the hobbit’s words, though it seemed Bilbo was attempting to buy time.

"You'll need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up" the halfling blubbered and rambled before having the demanding wannabe chef troll demand he spill his secrets. When mentions of skinning the other became quite the possibility Gandalf made a run for the high land, in Hope's to knock some down to bring the light sooner, all the while Ire made a light-footed dash around the edge, eager to stay in the dark of the close to finally take place behind a tree close to the dwarves on the ground, closest to her being- she cursed at this, Thorin.

When the smallest and somewhat whiniest troll took hold of poor Bombur, hoisting the heaviest member to dangle helplessly above his halitosis bearing maul, licking his lips in anticipation.

Ire readied her arrow, aiming for the ugly creature deranged eye. Thankfully for her, Bilbo's quick wit saved Bombur and the nasty cave dwellers lazy eye.

"He has worms! - in his tubes...." he added quickly, causing the troll to throw Bombur to the ground in disgust, though luckily the ginger dwarf bounced a bit.

In the ruckus that was the dwarves declaring their lack of parasites, Ire shuffled closer to Thorin tapping his head with the end of her bow to gain his attention.

Initially Oakensheild started, twisting his head at a strained angle to see the guide had returned.

Surprised when he smiled ever so slightly, Ire nodded to Bilbo and mouthed "Play along" to which he nodded, kicking his grounded kin and in all they changed their tune far too quickly.

"You don't think we know what you're up to, you little ferret!" The chef troll- Bert blurted jabbing Bilbo with a finger that rivalled the Halfling his length.

The biggest troll- Tom snorted as he continued to turn the spit "He's taking us for fool" anger obvious at the deceiving flurgburbur-hobbit.

Even with the danger surrounding himself, Bilbo couldn't help but yelp "Ferret?!" At the great big beasts before him.

It was then, Gandalf's voice rang throughout the clearing "The dawn will take you all!" He boomed, taking place onto a bolder, the sun just peeking over, casting a great shadow upon the might wizard.

"Who’s that?" Asked Bert. Focus now away from Bilbo.

"No idea" replied Tom. Still twirling the dwarves.

"Can we eat him too?" Pleaded William (Bill)- the whiny troll.

It was then Gandalf slammed his staff into the boulder before him, jumping to the side as one half fell below with an almighty thud after splitting it in two down the middle much like when one would break a walnut cleanly.

The beams of sun poured over the camp now, irritating the trolls who screamed and gripped as they slowly stiffened and much like how they complained before, turned to stone surrounding the fire.

Bilbo couldn't believe his eyes nor his luck, as neither much could the dwarves but that did not stop them for cheering at their rescue.

The sun had been in the sky for an hour now, and the men were free from there bonds, celebrating their release while gathering their clothes. Ire chose to keep her eyes off the men as they dressed, instead she climbed to the broken boulder, taking a seat to watch the tree tops of the wood, witnessing the birds and bugs fly and flutter in the early morning light.

She could hear the dwarves buckle and struggle themselves back into their gear. Though the early morning chatter stayed relatively light, the huffs and yawns were loud. It was obvious no one slept that night. The morning sun kissed her cheeks with a pleasant warmth. The comfort she found from the light almost tempted her to rest. Ire had nearly dozed off when a shout from the troll camp broke her from her meditation.

"Oi lass, get down here!" Called Dwalin, as he bound his axes to his back.

"We have questions for yah!" Shouted Glóin.

Sitting to attention, she blinked rapidly in an attempt to liven herself up. “What?” she called back. With a groan she rose, twisting in place to face the group. “What do you ask?” she bellowed, stepping down from her sun spot, now seeing the dressed party.

Kíli attempted to climb up the small wall of rocks “Well for one-” he was dragged down, only just having scaled a foot off the ground below.

Fíli, who had been the one to stop his brother from hurting himself finished “Where did you get too?”. He yanked Kíli towards himself silently warning him not to climb strange walls.

Returning the way, she had trekked up to her perch, Ire came to be ground level with the dwarves, “I waited at the edge of the woods for you”. Hands on her hips, she would defend her actions to the curious men.

Nori shrugged “Why’d it take you so long to get back?” this rounded the eyes that stared intently, ears strained.

“I waited like I said. Then I went to find you where I had left you. That is where I found Gandalf, next we know you’re being roasted”

“ ** _No thanks to you_** ” Bifur grumbled tying the last of his laces.

“With all thanks, master Dwarf, or perhaps I would not have found you in time” Gandalf defended his huntress.

Thorin nodded, then took to commanding the group return back to camp “Let’s hope it wasn’t raided” he added as he stormed away from the troll camp.

“Erm, Thorin, this way” Balin called. Thorin was quick to about turn and amended his direction.

In the day light it was easy to navigate the wood, seeing the land marks, like the trail of turned up trees to follow. The company followed said trees and soon found themselves with their belongings. They agreed that the princes, who caused the mess in the first place had to go retrieve the ponies, that they would rest for the morning before they were to set off once more.

The Miner’s cleaned the burnt leftovers from the pot and started breakfast, porridge oats. A few complaints were made but were soon dismissed by Oakensheild telling them to get a grip. Others tidied up, a couple sparred (Dwalin and Bifur) leaving the wizard to smoke his pipe and Bilbo complaining about being covered in dried troll snot. Ire had been tending to Bumble, having sneaked a pinch of oats from Bofur by distracting him with a small flask full of whisky. The horse gladly grazed on his treat.

It was soon brought to light that the company was lacking water in their flasks and skins, this gave Ire an idea. She offered her service to go retrieve safe water all the while volunteering Bilbo, who seemed to protest as she dragged him away along with the water carriers, stopping at Bumble and her pack to grab a clothe wrapped block.

Once away she reviled her intent for forcing the hobbit to join, “Here” she passed the parcel to Bilbo as they walked to find the closest stream.

The halfling stared at the block like it had offended him and his great granny, “What is it?” he held it tensely, turning it around between his fingers feeling its weight.

The huntress chuckled, “I would have thought you’d have seen soap before Mr Baggins, I thought you would appreciate a quick wash” she gently nudged his shoulder playfully.

Bilbo unwrapped the cloth to indeed find a bar of soap “Oh well, I… Thank you, Ire” he turned to look up to the woman beside him with a smile. She always seemed to look after him where and best she could. The hobbit had no clue how he’d survived so long if she hadn’t been there to help him.

She grinned back, “It’s no problem” she hummed as they both treaded over the twisting roots and shrubs of the woodland floor.

Soon they found the stream, a clear, twinkling refreshing looking stretch of running water. The pair followed up steam, deeming it clear of anything that could possibly taint it. Ire requested Bilbo go scrub up down steam to save the band of dwarves and wizard complaining about the soapy hobbit water that was to wash away with the downhill flow.

Bilbo agreed and made his way back the way they had come, finding a spot he felt private enough to cleanse himself of the mucus caking his front side.

Ire took to filling the bottles as full as they could, one by one until she only had a few left to do. As she corked another flask a scream rang out, spooking the wildlife as well as Ire. She knew that voice, it was Bilbo. Dropping all the water carriers she sprung off, charging down steam, hoping Bilbo had just slipped rather than being attacked. Sword drawn she burst out from the thick forest growth ready to defend the precious burglar. “Bilbo!” she called just as she reached him.

Blade up ready to swing she halted hearing a “Hey!” and a “Watch it!” meanwhile Bilbo gasped as his knight in fur lined boots arrived very suddenly.

The scene before Ire was almost mundane. There was Bilbo, leaning over the water rinsing the bubble from his face along with Kíli and Fíli one crouching by him and the other stood with hands up in a surrendering motion. “You can put the sword away, **_Men gorach._** ” (Idiot) sighed Fíli as he lowered his arms with a disapproving look on his face. “You’ll poke your eye out swinging it around like that” he huffed crossing his arms.

Ire retuned her sword to its sheath seeing no danger before and not because Fíli had said too. “What is going on, I heard screaming- weren’t you guys rounding up the ponies?” she questioned rather miffed, having ran to no one’s aid after all, wasting her time.

Kíli pulled his mouth into a toothy oops expression, “I made Bilbo scream. Scared him a little, complete accident, I swear” he instead chewed his lip now, big brown eyes begging for forgiveness much like a puppy that had messed the carpet.

Ire rolled her eyes, looking up to stare aimlessly at the canopy and with a sigh. Bilbo was quick to come to the prince’s defence for once “I had my eyes closed, wiping away the grime and they startled me, sorry for making you panic” he wore a very similar expression as the crouching dwarf next to him.

“As for the ponies” Fíli added “We already sorted that” he sounded rather cocky and proud with himself.

Ire could feel the smug look he had without looking to him. Bringing her eyes back to the three men shorter the herself she rose a brow unimpressed “So why are you here and not at the camp” she tutted.

Kíli sprang up with a grin “Brekkie is ready!” he cheered.

Fíli cleared his throat “And we’re here to help you bring the water back. Uncle thought yourself and Mr Baggins might struggle with the full load” he clapped his hands together “So! Where is it?” he asked confidently.

Turing around she walked the way she had raced “This way pack mules” she called, small smirk on her face as the brothers chased after her attempting to retaliate against her name calling.

While the quartet brought back the water Gandalf had mentioned Ire’s discovery of the troll horde to Thorin. The king decided that after breakfast they would investigate the cave at the recommendation of the wizard. It didn’t take long for the four to scoff the contents of there bowls, leaving little for Bombur to scrounge before Bifur washed them up, returning them into his younger cousin’s pack. Soon after the group took the short walk yet even shorter ride over to the now troll-less cave, lead by Ire and Bumble. Much like the night before they could smell the hoard before they saw it. The ponies refused to go any further; as a result, the dwarves and Bilbo left them, meanwhile Ire pulled along Bumble, offering her working horse to carry the possible loot they might have found.

Looking at the open entrance, it was littered with debris of all kinds, from a smashed cart to a wire fence, a broken barrel and the partially decomposed half eaten body of a human looking at its build. By the tatters that used to be clothes more than likely the old farmer that owned the farm house ruins. A handful of the dwarves entered alongside Gandalf. Ire could hear them raiding the treasures and mess of the troll’s hoard mean while the dwarves having stayed on the surface began to dig through the trash at the mouth of the cave. She took a hand to pet her beloved horse’s chestnut shoulder, “Remember not too much, Bumble maybe a worker but he’s used to only my weight” she called to the digging dwarves.

“Don’t worry, if he can carry you, he can take a full chest.” Fíli replied resting against the wall of the cove that sheltered the troll’s hole.

Kíli whispered to his brother with a snigger “Or three” he beamed.

Balin gasped at the small dig, Óin chuckled, shaking his head while Bombur snorted. “Could he carry me?” The chef asked, slapping his round belly.

Ire cocked her head at the question, with a far too quick an answer she quipped “I recon he could carry you, your brother and your cousin!” she declared, arms attempted to hug her beast from bellow.

Bifur threw some bones and sludge remarking “ ** _If he could carry us then he’ll have no problem with our treasure_** ” he cheered.

Bombur grinned, nodding along with his cousin’s words. 

Bilbo scratched his head. “Pardon?” he quipped, still not knowing the language of the dwarves. His shoulders rose as he hunched, seemingly more anxious then normal.

The rider let go of her horses and shrugged “I guess, as long as you take a third of what you’re thinking, I know dwarves have a tendency to pick up everything metal and shiny, like a magpie” she cracked.

The outside group all threw words none too kind back to the girl who basked in the glory. Bilbo still confused, paced, avoiding the sight of the dank, smelly hole that made his stomach churn. He missed Bagend far more seeing what foul homes monsters dwelled in. “You alright Bilbo?” asked Ori from his seated position on the ground, scribbling in the events of the night before, finding breakfast was not long enough for him to record all the details of the evening.

The hobbit froze before taking a breath and wringing his hands, “I don’t believe so, oh I dislike that hole, trolls be damned!” he cursed, wandering over to converse further with the only party member seemingly taking notice of him.

Ori giggled, face still in his pages, “Not much like your cosy home is it? At least us dwarves keep our homes clean; Dori is the best at cleaning. Nori-erm, he tries to skip out on chores, he prefers making money” he added, his quill whipping wildly as he continued to jot.

There was a quick song of “Hurrahs!” as the dwarves struck gold, or a singular gold chalice before continuing digging to pull more and more. A silver mug was pulled; that Dori quickly snatched to take back to his youngest brother. “Look Ori- isn’t it pretty” he mused holding it in front of the youngest’s Ri’s eyes.

Ori chuckled, setting his book aside, “Alright Dori- show me” he hummed, ink covered fingers taking hold, his freckled cheeks round with his content smile.

Bilbo couldn’t help but smile at the brother’s interaction. It was clear Dori would do anything for his baby brother. It almost made Bilbo wish for a brother, though that mattered not as he was certain he would manage as the only son/ child of Bungo and Belladonna. Taking an almighty inhale, he pulled himself together enough to join the Ri brothers in their observation of the silver mug.

Ire chuckled at the excitement of the dwarves and their small bounty. She would never truly understand their obsession over small metallic objects, no her fancy was something far brighter. Her passion was the star-spangled night sky, those pearls in the sky shone far more fiercely than the treasures of the dwarves. Her mother would take Ire, her siblings and her father out in the dead of night when the streets were clear and quiet to tell the stories they held. It seemed her mothers love of the stars rubbed off the huntress. She stood in a daze, dreaming of happier innocent times filled with love and smiles before a heavy ram skull slammed into her leg, the shock quickly woke her. “ _ ~~Naeg~~_! (Ouch!)” she hissed as it collided. “Watch it!” she growled, bending down to rub her sore shin.

Óin snorted, “Don’t stand in the way then lass” he smiled amusedly, tutting to himself. Balin smacked Óin upside the head tutting himself at the man’s daft words.

Ire muttered “Blast these dwarves” before kicking the skull aside. “If I had moved you would have hit my horse- then you would have to explain to the others why you suddenly lost your carrier!” she narrowed her eyes and turned to face away from them, her braid whipping as she span.

Fíli pushed from his place, looking Ire up and down, smirking, “Maybe we should use you to carry our new haul” he had a wicked look on his face as he crossed his arms “Pack mule” he mocked her tone from earlier that morning when they carried the water back.

The dwarves that dug just laughed and continued chattering with themselves until the other emerged from the dreaded hole. Three of them, specifically Bofur, Glóin and Nori wore dirt on their knees and hands, though all three grinned to themselves. Dwalin followed Thorin, who now bared a new sword, covered in dust and cobwebs mind you, but it found itself a place on his thick leather belt. Gandalf was the last to reveal himself to the light, carrying a small long object. He called for Bilbo and so the hobbit obliged, bidding a quick bye to Dori, Ori and now Nori, whom was being lectured by the eldest Ri on cleanliness. Ori gave a sorry nod to Bilbo before attempting to calm his brothers.

The huntress once again focused on her giant horse, “You’re the best treasure” she hummed, pressing her cheek to a solid shoulder. It was then Bumble fidgeted, knocking Ire back as he stepped in place, ears back as he looked around frantically. “Oh dear” she exclaimed. “Thorin!” she called in slight panic as she held her horse steady best, she could.

Thorin jumped up onto a rock, his gaze grazing over the forest ahead “Somethings Coming!” he called drawing his new sword.

Gandalf soon added “Stay together and arm yourselves!” he boomed as he strode ahead, his new sword also drawn. The dwarves all took their weapons to hand, running ahead in a close unit.

Ire held Bumble best she could, now in fear of being stomped on as he became far jumpier. She noticed the hobbit had fallen behind much like her, “Stick with me!” she called to Bilbo, having now hushed her beast steady. The burglar nodded swiftly finding her side his new blade also drawn, “When did you get that-” she shook her head and mounted her steed, leaning down with a hand outstretched. “Trust me, this will be far quicker” gulping with a slight quake in the knees Bilbo took her hand.

She hoisted him up having his sit in front as she kicked to go, though it seemed not far as by the time they reached the group a strange messy man stood on a sleigh, seemingly pulled by over sized rabbits. “Well, I never” she muttered.

After confirming that the man was another wizard, in fact Radagast the Brown the party calmed, so much so Bilbo was slowly slipped off Bumble and into the arms of Dwalin whom placed the rather nauseous hobbit to the leaf covered floor.

Ire too dismounted, though found herself tripping on a tree root, landing into Bofur’s fast reacting arms. He just chuckled and helped her stand steady “I never knew you were so clumsy” he hummed, tilting his hat back into its proper places.

“Am not!” she hushed back, folding her arms with a huff.

Bofur sniggered at her “ ** _nithul_** ” he chuckled breathlessly, in an attempt to be quiet as the wizards communed.

When Radagast brought up something being “Terribly wrong” the entire Oakensheild company listened. Including Bilbo, now having found the iron in his belly. Though soon after found themselves dismissing the lichen cover wizard they found rather scatty and for lack of better words odd.

It seemed the wizards chose to converse alone, not far from the party, but enough to not be heard. The dwarves found themselves scattered around, though they continued trekking through the underbrush as the wizards talked and talked. Finally, they stopped as the wizards shared a blow on Gandalf’s pipe.

The air had changed, they could all feel it. A shot of panic ran through them all, when they heard a howl of a savage beast did those seated shoot up and the others that relaxed pulled their weapons.

Bilbo squeaked “Was that a wolf?” he panicked, “Are- are there wolves out there?” he asked urgently.

Bofur, whom had his pickaxe at the ready shook his head as looked ahead of himself frantically. “Wolves? No, that is not a wolf” his voice quaked.

Ire drew her bow, arrow already notched as she watched and waited, Bumble found himself once again wrestles, though holding in place far better then before. You see, Bumble, much like Ire had seen and smelt orc, goblins and on occasion wargs too, unlike the brown wizard that had him startled earlier. This confirmed the huntresses worry, checking her horse with a quick glance, she watched his long ears twitch and focus to her left. Quickly she turned to see a warg prowling over the ridge above, hearing the growl rumble in its throat. Ire loosed an arrow, landing it in it’s shoulder as it dove from the peek onto Dori.

Quickly Thorin hacked at the great beast’s neck until it stopped breathing, while Nori clung to the wall kicking at the creature in a hurried panic. Another warg arrived, charging towards Thorin from behind. Kíli loosed his arrow after the quick command of Dwalin, he too hit his mark. Thorin dived out the way as the great creature dropped to the floor. Like a flash Dwalin stuck the warg on its furry head causing a rather gruesome crunch.

They had finished the pair of scouts in under a minute, as Thorin retrieved his now sullied blade from the first warg announcing “Warg scouts!” in a hurry he continued “which means an orc pack is not far behind” he huffed.

Bilbo couldn’t believe his ears much like the wrest of the company. The grey wizard hounded Thorin on the secrecy of their quest to which the king obliged. At the announcement of the group being hunted they held their wits fairly well. There was suggestion of out riding the pack but that was soon redundant as Ori announced the ponies leaving in a blind panic. Ire smiled to herself at that, knowing Bumble was a brave horse.

Radagast soon offered to distract the orcs for his dear friend, to which the grey wizard dismissed in fear of losing his friend. "These are Rustable Rabbits; I would like to see them try" he crowed, leering towards Gandalf.

Ire could hold it no longer and saddled up upon Bumble, “I will distract them also; better two targets to confuse them" she puffed her chest, ready bow and quiver for quick drawing, making sure her sword was ready for blood of needed.

The dwarves and hobbit stared gobsmacked. The idea of the small half dwarf charging into her possible demise, that was too much for most.

Bilbo gulped, piping up "But before you had your sister? Are you sure you will be alright?" His deep brown eyes watered slightly as his onset of worry surfaced.

Ire nodded, taking a moment before leaning down and with a deep arm pulled out her most precious treasure. "You fill me with self-doubt Mr Baggins, though, in case you are right, please, keep a hold of this for me, I do not wish to lose him by mistake" she held out her father’s urn, to which Bilbo took with care. His worry now deeper than before. "Also!" She declared, once again delving into her sack to pull out the green pot of poultice. "Just in case, alright" she smiled softly, all the while the dwarves argued.

Thorin narrowed his eyes and shook his head "I will not allow you to go sacrifice yourself for us" he declared. "Not with something as avoidable as an orc pack, not alone". He held up his new blade in show of arms.

The others nodded, raising weapons also, still having them readied from the warg attack just a minute before. "If you think you're doing this alone, you are wrong" grinned Fíli, swords at the ready.

"Aye! We won't let a lady do this on her own, especially just a hunter" Dwalin rolled his broad shoulders.

Said huntress chuckled "I'm not just a hunter, I-" she was cut off.

Radagast and Gandalf looked to each other then back to the short beings before them "-We do not have time for this" the brown wizard spat hurriedly.

Gandalf nodded, "She will buy us time Master Thorin, we must hurry now, I know a place we may retreat too" he beckoned, begging to walk.

The dwarves still argued when Ire kicked Bumble to follow the brown wizard, "Bilbo will explain!" She called as her and Radagast took off for the open planes. No way for the dwarves to follow they took after Gandalf for their retreat. It had been a long time since Ire had fought from a mount, longer still orcs and with the lack of Irk did also dwell on her mind as she kept galloping pace with Radagast's sleigh.

"Don't get caught" was all he called before sweeping to the right and dead ahead towards the pack.

Now was the time for her skills to show and not fail her, prayers her body would remember how this dance went without the music. With a battle cry she road fierce and fast gaining the confusion and attention of part of the pack that had stopped chasing the rabbits.

"OVER HERE YOU BLACK TONGUED BASTARDS!" She hollered, losing an arrow at an orc, piercing its neck in and out the other side. It slid off its mount with a dull thud. Now she had three wargs in pursuit alongside two with riders. One with jagged blade hoisted and shaken as it screamed while the other much like her had a short bow and arrow ready.

She trusted Bumble, with her life, almost foolishly though, but in the middle of a battle like this, she could not steer the reigns and let him go in which every direction he chose. He galloped on, long gait keeping his distance well away from the snarling creatures that clawed the earth beneath them as they savagely thundered towards them.

Arrow after arrow flew, taking down one the chasing wargs, its bloodied fur body tumbled to the floor, tripping up another as it attempted to go around the now lifeless one. The third remained in pace, if not gaining behind Ire and her steed. When the first arrow of the orc imbedded itself in Ire's bow, just above her hand she learnt the true marksmanship of her enemy, the other archer was to be a problem, that was for certain now, but the two rider-less wargs and the barbaric swords man that closed in would have to take priority.

Over the ridge, Radagast wove between the rocks ever so elegantly, easily dodging the leaps of great beats and arrows. It was good to see he was currently untouched, though by the arrow that passed through her thick hair, Ire was surprised she had remained so herself.

The great Clydesdale jumped a protruding rock that knocked the slower warg off pace, its paws jumbled beneath it as it scrambled before flooring itself. No chance was given as it was barraged with arrow after arrow until its last heave of breath shuddered from its body with great difficulty.

The final snarling beast had caught up, it far more agile than its brethren, leaped at Ire, nipping at her thigh ripping her trouser, revealing the now bleeding gap in her flesh. She hissed as it readied itself again. She could hear the orc call praise for finally taking some small revenge. Before it jumped again Ire held her sword in hand. As it made its way in the air once more, mouth wide open, yellowed gnarled fangs glinting in the mid days sun she struck the beast across its eyes, using the pommel of the now bloodied blade to force it down to the ground.

It too tumbled against the rocky grounds whimpering and yapping in its new blind state. The orc archer aimed and the whines cut short as its arrow dug into the wargs chest. The archer notched and aimed again, though this time for the girl and her horse. The arrow plunged into Bumble’s flank causing the great beast to stop and rear. The warg rider charged at full speed, the legs of said warg worked hard as it prepared to dive at rearing equine.

As the long-faced beast leapt, Ire dropped, dodging the impact it made with Bumble's back. Though holding her sword up high, thrusting its sharp blade into the creatures’ belly, gutting it as its claws dug into the horse, Both Bumble and Ire became trapped under the stinking beast. Though, being a great, strong working horse, the Clydesdale pulled itself free and bolted.

To where, Ire could not see now draped in the Intestines of the now dead beast.

She heard the orc get up from their spot, having been thrown off as the two mounts collided. Now it circled. Moving some of the slimy guys out from her eyes she could see its iron plaque feet stomping around, assessing the bloodied mess before it. She was trapped under the weight of the warg, no matter how much she pulled and tugged and wriggled she would not budge.

When she heard the distant cry of Bumble she froze completely, her beloved companion, what had happened- the worst came to mind as she felt the weight lift from her arms.

She hadn't noticed the feet stop dead ahead of her. Slowly the weight lessened but the crippling fear she was about to have her throat slit took its place. The orc snorted and cackled "Looks like we have a human she" its clawed disfigured hand took a grasp at her hair while a foot slammed onto her hand causing a shout of pain to erupted from her air lacking lungs. "ooh, I can't wait to play with you" it licked its blackened lips, filed fangs pricking its grey tongue as its grinned menacingly. It yanked again, with such a force she felt her joints pop, but noticeably, her legs moved out from under the weight of the warg.

It held its blade to her cheek and sniggered, pressing it against her skin, easily cutting it. It stung, really, stung, the blade must if had a poison or the like on it as her left eye watered at the tip of the blade became level with her pupil. "Oh yes! Yes!" It squealed. Ire's right hand tightened its grip on her own sword hidden beneath her belly.

The orc was so pleased with its work "bleed for me wench!" It cheered though they were soon replaced with a cry of pain as her sword wedged deep into its heel, severing its Achilles tendon. The orc fell back much like an old oak hacked down for timber would, dropping its blade and the grip on Ire's hair.

She threw herself up, and with as much force as she could and sank her sword into its neck, through its throat and by the click its spine too. It was dead and that's what mattered.

What matters now was how she was going to face the archer.

There was yelling from not far off and a horn sounded. Thorin's voice carried on the wind, that meant some of the orc pack must have found them. Retrieving her sword from the dead orc and the one it had marred her face with, she attempted to make way following the shouts to find herself doubling over, the gouge in her leg too much for her to walk on. "AGH!" She cried, falling to her knees. Like this she was a sitting duck. That was when a thought came to her, she had fallen with her bow and if lucky her quiver, more likely a few arrows. She crawled back to the still warm open body of the warg, rooting around for her precious bow.

She heard a snarl as her fingers finally grazed it, she turned her head slightly to the archer, sword in hand bow long forgotten march towards her as the warg dove side to side impatiently behind. She had no choice now, she tugged her bow from the gory mess holding it up in position, no arrows were scattered near her hands as she grasped desperately watching the orc step closer and closer. This one had a more villainous character to it as its depraved eyes glinted. Ire had been a fool, there was one arrow, though be it broken, lodged into the bow itself. She struggled it out and notched it best she could, in such a sorry state.

The orc was point blank now, raising its own long sword to swing down and behead. Ire took a final breath, and launched her last hope. It did fly, a short distance, hitting the orc on its chest plate before bouncing to the ground pathetically. The bow and string snapped and splintered in her hands. The orc stopped as its heavy booted foot smashed the arrow. It stood there, arm still raised, but not moving. It stood there and laughed. A vile, wet, malicious laugh that bubbled from its belly.

The huntress sat there in shock as it made such a horrific noise that was sure to haunt her dreams. Ire now believed for a moment one small moment that she was going to die. She reached for her sword but the laughing orc kicked it aside and out of reach, she lent for the other and again, the laughing orc took it from her reach. She was left with nothing but her broken bow and aching body.

When it finally stopped laughing, it craned its head to the left before kicking her down pinning her chest with its busted boot. "You will join your horse now" it sneered. She kicked best she could. She shook and beat on its leg best she could. But it seemed that was not good enough as once again it raised its sword.

This was it; she chose to die with the little dignity she had left and with her regret for getting Bumble in this mess she glared eyes opened at the orc as it went to swing down.

So, imagine her surprise when an arrow landed in its temple.

Even more surprised when it dropped dead in front of her.

The air that returned to her lungs when its weight was gone was lapped up hastily. Ire pushed herself up best she could to see majestic lanky men in shiny armour riding on even more majestic steeds wiping out the last warg and by the screams in the distance, the rest of the party too. It took her a while to realise these majestic men were elves. Elves of Rivendell. Elves under Lord Elrond.

She sat herself up jarring everything that was already throbbing with pain. She knew her best chance of survival was with the late to the party arrivals. It hurt to breath now. Deeply it burned her ribs. She heard her body make some disturbing noises as she took a pummelling from the orcs this time. Like she had said to Bilbo months back, "they can be tricky sometimes" and this time they were more like tenaciously so.

The throat cutters of the elves dismounted, taking thorough examinations to make sure every filthy black tongue was dead. When they stumbled across a bloodied, beaten gut cover human looking woman lying beside three dead bodies they soon reported her too their leader, Lord Elrond himself whom had joined his people in this pest extermination.

He was quick to ask his men for everything they knew of the woman that they had now helped dress her wounds and offer her refuge back at their realm. " _Who is she with_?". They could not answer. " _Were there others_?". Again, they shook their heads. With a pause and a slight bowing of his head he queried " _Have you asked_?".

Before the others could reply no once more, Ire rasped " _No, My Lord. I was with Radagast the Brown and Gandalf the Grey and a few others_ " she heaved by the end.

That seemed to intrigued the elven lord greatly, " _You speak Sindarin_?" He mused, his eyes studying her battle beaten form.

The half dwarf nodded, " _Yes_ " her voice rattled.

Elrond nodded once then spoke to his guard requesting that Ire ride with them as their horse was the smoothest in step. At the mention of horses Ire begged if they had found Bumble " _Please_!" Her voice cracked as she cried, " _He is very obviously not with the Orcs, he is large and chestnut in colours, hooves the size of dinner plates, tail and main black, white strip on his nose!_ " The looks the elves gave one another made Ire want to flood the plane with her tears.

A tentative hand sat on her shoulder " _We found him. He is gone, the poison was too much for him_ " the guard gently revealed. " _Though, we do have your belongings_ " he added before letting his long fingers slide from her form.

Soon they road back into the incredibly beautiful realm that was Rivendell. Not that they would of spoke much, other than Elrond probing for answers the journey was quiet. Ire was too broken to bring herself to try engage with the elves. By the time they rode in one of the riders ahead sounded a horn. That was when she heard them, the Oakensheild company had made it in and by the sound if it, one piece, all shouting and readying for a fight. The huntress was tempted to call out to her friends but found the prickling pain through her chest would not let her; she hoped they would see the peace of the elves past there parade.


	5. As the boot flies!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Oakensheild party is finally safe and able to rest in the domain of Lord Elrond. Will it be a peaceful recovery for the bruised and battered huntress or will the fates chose otherwise?
> 
> This chapter is trying to build more on Rivendell, as we're not given much from The Hobbit trilogy or LOTR's threesome movies. 
> 
> Also; dealing with feeling is hard.
> 
> (Sorry It's been over a month since the last chapter- University deadlines took priority).

The dwarves found themselves hostile against the tree-humpers that rode towards them, circling the group in a fanciful routine as they slowed their steeds to a holt. It was Lord Elrond that spoke first, spotting the old grey wizard stood double the size of the scruffy feral company. It seemed a rather pleasant greeting between the two old friends, though the dwarves watched on with distrusting eyes. 

The pair conversed in Sindarin, much to the displeasure of the dwarves. Now just as clueless in conversation as Bilbo as the men muttered between themselves in their beloved Khuzdul. When the elven leader slipped back to the common tongue he spoke with some mild whimsy, holding up a sheathed orcish blade as to add to his words, “Strange for orcs to be so close to our borders, though I assume that was you and your friends here” he gave Gandalf a knowing smile, knowing whom had travelled with them, as she sat gripping onto one of his riders nearer the rear.

The wizard nodded, swinging his staff arm to gest to his dwarves, “Ah yes, I’m afraid that was us” he mused rather gravelly, the frown evident on his face.

The tight group of dwarves held together, still unsure of the long ears’ realm. Bilbo had taken to stealing small glances around meanwhile Thorin made his way to judge the elven Lord, head held high. Elrond spoke easily to the younger being before him, making mention of knowing Thorin’s grandfather and as one would expect from the dwarf leader, was able to insult the lord of realm in a few bitter words.

By now the elvish riders had begun to disperse and return their mounts to the stable. Ire, being so close yet so far in her sorry state requested she dismount there at the open plaza, lest the others forget her existence. “ ~~ _Please, I wish to stand with my friends_~~ ” she whispered in the elves own tongue. He obliged helping her down. It seemed the sound of the other horses’ shoes clacking on the tiled floor covered the sounds of her distress as her weight was returned back on the leg that had been bitten into by one of the wargs only a matter of an hour ago. Gandalf, having face where Ire was placed smiled quite contently seeing she was alive and safe in the valley elf realm.

It seemed Elrond invited his new guests for tea to which they after some debate, agreed whole heartedly not having a proper meal for about a week. Just before the dwarves and Bilbo could shuffle off towards a highly desired meal Lord Elrond nodded graciously to behind them, where Ire struggled to stand straight, “I believe we found something of yours” he hummed.

The party soon twisted to spot the not-so-distant huntress. She attempted to greet them, but was cut off by Bofur (whom happened to be standing at the back of the pack) bounding over to swoop her into his arms as the dwarves cheered at her return. “Oh lass! We thought we lost you!” he cried head wresting on her bruised chest.

She gasped and spluttered at the normally endearing contact that at the time, was causing her more pain the comfort. Hoarse, she managed a weak “Let go” as the threat of a scream bubbled within.

Confused and somewhat shaken as the living ghost requested her freedom so abruptly, Bofur loosened his hold, though not letting go, pulling back enough to see the fresh cut upon her cheek and the deep purple that crept beneath her dirtied string tied blouse. “By Mahal you’re bleeding!” he exclaimed, “We need to patch you up!” he stated firmly, moving to slide an arm under hers to hold her steady, she hissed at his shifting of her ribs. “Óin, you know how to sort out a wound right?” The black-haired miner queried rather hurried.

The half deaf dwarf heard the urgency of Bofur’s voice and by the beaten look of the woman now revealed to the others, he saw why the duel braided man sounded so panicked. Dropping his bag, he dove deep in an attempt to pull out what he could possibly need to help the girl, “I’ll be but a moment, I just need to find-” he was cut off by Gandalf whom had taken to traveling over to Ire and Bofur in less than ten paces.

Calmly as he could the wizard spoke, “There is no need for this, we are in Rivendell! The elves have wonderous medicine that will have miss Ire fixed up in a jiffy!” he turned to Lord Elrond whom nodded in agreement.

The circlet bearing elven lord smiled a smile for of care “We will take good care of her”. The dwarves looked to each other, not sure whether to believe the elf or nay. Elrond turn his head slightly to his left calling over his shoulder in elvish summoning a pair of long silken robe wearing elves, one a man and the other a woman, the difference was obvious to the keen eyes, though some of the dwarves lacked that.

They soon made their way past the dwarves to stand in front of Ire and Bofur, the latter seemed to be pulling a rather scorned expression at the mentioning of handing over his ward. The elves turned to Gandalf, pleading that he persuade the filthy miner- ( _a dig at the state of his clothes, not his race_ ) to release the injured woman into their care. The wizard agreed, holding his staff in a tiresome way. “Come now, you may leave Ire in the care of the elves” stated Gandalf in a rather lackadaisical manner.

It took the rasping of Ire to convince Bofur that she would be fine with the pair summoned, “They’re to escort me to the infirmary” her head rested on his as she breathed shallowly through her teeth. “Go eat. I will-” she bit the inside of her mouth at the sudden shot of pain that rippled over her chest. She tensed as her nerves convulsed. Struggling to breath, all the while keeping her screams to herself as to not panic the company.

He held her until she found her rhythm of breaths once again, “Alright, but you best join us before Bombur finishes your plate for you” his words were soft his voice pled.

A small smile tugged her lips, “promise” she sighed.

Reluctantly the dwarf let her go into the arms of the elves. Bofur Picked up the pickaxe he had dropped earlier and re-joined the group that now followed Lord Elrond all too quietly except for the few small questions and queries from the hobbit. “Do you think she’ll be alright?” asked Bilbo as he turned to look back over his shoulder as the half dwarf being helped along an alternative route.

“She’ll be fine- she’s a fighter” Hummed Balin.

Dwalin’s gruff voice added “She may only be half, but she’s still dwarf. Our women can handle it”. To which the elder members nodded and agreed far too easily.

The group continued their discussion as it changed to their wives and children and once again the greatness that was their kingdoms.

The wonders of elven medicine never ceased to amaze Ire. After having the healer fawn over her, she felt nearly as well as she did before her attempt at playing the distraction. “ ~~ _Incredible, your treatments are remarkable_~~ ” the half dwarf breathed, astounded with the lack of marking under the newly places dressings, the main wrapped on her right thigh, the hand that was stomped on along with a splint and the other sat on her cheek under a blood shot eye. Gently she touched around her wounds with her unbound hand, though her skin discoloured from bruising the elf had cleaned her up well.

The healer gave a mellow smile, “ ~~ _I have had practice_~~ ” he hummed, mixing herbs into a cream. “ ~~ _This will help with the bruising_~~ ” he handed over the ointment in a jar one would expect to find honey or preserves in.

Carefully Ire took it into her possession. “ ~~ _Thank you_~~ ” she uttered, wresting it on her lap. Her eye prickled as her cheek pulsed as she winced, aggravating the wound further. “Ah!” she gasped at the sting. “ ~~ _I feel like I have vinegar in my eye_~~ ” she grumbled, blinking rapidly as her red peeper watered.

The healer sighed annoyed, “ ~~ _That will be the poison in your system, perhaps I should try to cleanse it again, though your vison maybe impaired for a small while_~~ ” he watched the huntress wipe away the spilling tears.

Ire grimaced “ ~~ _How long is a small while_~~?”.

“ ~~ _A week_~~ ” the elf replied smoothly.

She huffed as the pain subsided a little, “ ~~ _Elvish or common_~~?”

The elf chuckled “ ~~ _Elvish_~~ ”. You see there is a difference between an elvish week and the rest of middle earth, an elvish week is only six days while for others it is seven.

Relaxing once again as she stayed seated, “ ~~ _My vison, both eyes or just this one_~~?” she pointed to the clearly inflamed organ.

The healer gave smug glance to his left as he prepped _athelas_ amongst others herbs, in a pestle and mortar. “ ~~ _The inflicted eye, fear not for I will purge toxicant_~~ ” he purred. Though his voice soon turned sensible “ ~~ _Any longer and perhaps even my kin would have been unable to help you, inflicted in the head or chest could be fatal, elsewhere and there is more time, though in that time the agony would be unbearable to an extent_~~ ”.

Ire held her breath for a moment, watching the back of the healer as he worked. “ ~~ _That sounds horrific_~~ ”. Her hand once again rose to touch. “ ~~ _But I am lucky, the Lord of Rivendell took pity and now I am here under your treatment_~~ ”. The healer chuckled holding the bowl in his hand turning to the girl.

He removed the dressing from her blackened cheek, “ ~~ _Do not mistake his empathy for pity, my lord cares too much it seems_~~ ” gently he took pinches of the crushed herbs, bit by bit pressing it into the cut. Ire took great discomfort as the medley of leaves and petals sat on her exposed flesh. “ _I ~~wish you were here sooner, then I could have flushed away the taint. It has been easier cleaning the warg bite~~_ ” he grumbled holding a hand over her right side of her face reciting a spell that he seemed well versed in.

Elven magic had enchanted Ire, her mother could perform little and her grandfather, a full elf of the _Lothlórien_ realm, used to show Ire and her siblings all kinds of wonders, the golden trees would sing, and they would sing along with them. The three siblings once caught a glimpse of the fairest elf the had ever seen, though that was not many for Irk and even fewer for Ira, yet Ire could atone to that assessment. The lady Galadriel shone brightly like the stars Ire loved so much. She would never forget the time she had spent with her grandfather in _Lothlórien_ , perhaps she should visit him again after her quest had ended.

The relief was fast given as the healer removed his long slender fingers from her face. The cut had nearly healed, a slight scab ran down the centre while the blackening had turned to just a regular bruising, older looking, having started to yellow at the edges. The quarter elf blinked several times, encouraging the herbs to drop from her slightly discoloured cheek in clumps onto her lap. The healer looked pleased with his work.

He was not wrong though; her vision was blurred in the affected eye. “ ~~ _You_~~ erm _, ~~flush wounds? Does that not get it in the blood sooner~~_?” she questioned, rubbing her blurry eye with the palm of her hand.

“ ~~ _No, we dilute the poison or suck it if that’s not possible_~~ ” he mused, helping brush the green from her cheek.

The huntress froze, “ ~~ _Suck_~~?!” she choked on her breath.

He laughed, pouring a couple of chalices of water, “ ~~ _Yes, like you would the venom of a snake_~~ ”.

Ire set the jar of cream aside to take the chalice, gladly sipping the cool drink. “ ~~ _That… Do you mind if I come back to you tomorrow_~~?” she questioned with an excited look in her eyes.

He stared back shocked by her outburst, “ _I ~~would recommend your return to check your leg, but of course, a social visit~~_?” he queried, sipping his drink careful to not spill any if the small woman before him decided to explode again.

“ ~~ _Nay_~~ ” she grinned to him, “ ~~ _Academic! I wish to know more_~~!” the poor healer pondered for a moment before giving in with a sigh. She shot up to thank the elf, finding trouble with the bite on her leg faltering, spilling her water slightly before regaining her normal shoulder back posture, finding the pull on her chest discomforting too. Eventually she took a bow, thanking the healer as she wished before bidding him farewell for the day. She left but quickly returned to grab her jar of cream and ask the direction for dinner ever so hopeful for a good meal and to get a proper look at the party, having been too distracted by her injuries to assess them correctly and just say hello.

By the time she was led to the grand veranda that looked out upon the hidden valley, the sounds of laughter and cheers tickled her ears. There they sat, the company of Thorin Oakensheild, throwing their food at Bombur sat at the end closest to the stairs. Except Thorin and Gandalf whom were seated with Lord Elrond on a higher table, just adjacent to the two separating the party in near half. Ire found herself thanking the healer for guiding her. He smiled and said his goodbye before retreating away from the ballistics that was bread rolls. Taking careful steps, she made her way up to the high table bowing deeply before the wizard, mountain king and valley lord. “Please forgive my tardiness, I would have arrived sooner, but I found myself lost in your beautiful kingdom”.

Elrond asked her to stand, pleased she enjoyed her sight-seeing before re-joining. “You seem to be faring better than from when my men found you” his majesty saw no bound, even sat at a table next to two possible vagabonds.

Ire agreed, once again singing praise of the elf medicines, speaking of, she still held the jar of ointment under her arm. “It’s good to see you fairly intact my dear girl” Gandalf’s jolly smile brightening his features.

A fruity chuckle rose from her, “So it seems. That was not the first time I have dealt with orcs and I’m sure not the last”.

To this Thorin raised a brow “Meaning?” he lent back, turning to take a better look at her.

“I have fought them before, and I will again” she shrugged.

Hearing the voice of their pensive leader the company stopped their tirade of dinner to focus on him, not seconds later did they recognise the figure standing to the kings left, though having had a change of clothes it was soon obvious their miracle guide had returned. They hesitated not to grab her and bombard her with their curious questions.

“Please, may I eat in peace? I promise you answers in the morning, but for now, I wish to rest” the tired tone she pleaded with pulled sympathy from most, but a few decided their inpatients to demanding.

With “but-” and “awe” resounding around the table.

“Please” she sighed, taking a forkful of lettuce to her mouth, chewing lethargically. The older ones hushed the nagging, continuing the conversations they had shared before Ire’s arrival. Ire instead asked the dwarves and Bilbo to fill her in on what had happened after they split deciding she had the energy to listen to their tale, though that was false, instead she thought of her great loss.

Her dearest Bumble had fallen, her beloved companion that had seen her through sunshine and sleet, through easy meadow flower filled hacks to the sharp desperation of battle. It seemed that day had asked too much of him, nearly as it did her. Oh, her heart throbbed heavily in her tight chest, her eyes pooled the salty tears that had become all too familiar in recent years.

Losing both her parents to unfortunate paths. Her mother struck down in a robbery gone bad and her father to the bottle trying to drown his grief for his wife. At least her siblings were still with her, or so she hoped having not heard from them since last leaving Rohan on her fathers’ old cart puller. It was decided, in the morning she would write a letter to home, hoping it would reach them before her return, if she returned. Her flirt with that dead had been all to kind letting her leave with as few injuries as she did, though her body would remember for a while, her mind would hold on to it longer.

Her grief slammed the gates of emotion open letting her tears stream down her cheeks.

Food long forgotten she silently mourned, sat between the oh so boisterous men that continued their recollection of the chase to the secret entrance of the hidden valley. It seemed they took no notice until it became obvious her mind was focused on other matters.

She was seated between Dwalin and Óin, the pair of elders had forced poor Nori to shift to the end, earlier. He begrudgingly did so, though as he moved a pepper shaker fell from his tunic and with an awkward grin, he placed it back on the table, after a threat from Dwain, who flexed his biceps to prove a point.

Directly across from Ire was Kíli, whom had seemed to notice her empty stare. And as one would, instead of simply asking after her he heftily kicked her in the shin. That caught her attention as she curled up on her-self, slamming her knees onto the underneath of the table yelping the at the first assault and groaning as her knees impacted on the solid wood. Kíli looked to the open roof pretending he had nothing to do with her added smarting. “What was that for!?” she growled, throwing her half-eaten bun at the youngest prince. Though her vision obscured misjudged and hit Bofur instead.

Kíli bit his lip holding back his laughter as Bofur looked to the bun that had randomly collided with his shoulder and the up to Ire who held her hands over her mouth eyes wide with worry. “What did I do?” he asked with a flabbergasted laugh, a furrowed brow smile portrayed his confusion.

Ire lowered her hands down enough her mouth was visible again “I- That was- Kíli kicked me!” she accused, well hand slamming on the table with a thud, her bandaged pointed at the younger man across from her.

Both Dwalin and Óin jumped as she lifted from the floor A “Mahal calm my heart” and “By the moon!” were uttered as they caught their panic. Both Nori and Bifur watched on at the table drama, free entertainment.

“Did not!” retorted the messy haired archer, faking innocence.

Ire’s eye twitched as she lowered her arm a sneer tugging her lip “Don’t test me **_nidayith_** ”(little boy).

Bofur picked up the bun that had struck him and chucked it back at the agitated woman across the table, though softer than she had. “Sit down, **_nithul_** , you’ll make yourself worse” he sighed, suddenly turning to Kíli, slapping him upside the head, “And you! Kicking injured people is plain dirty”.

Kíli squeaked as he was clobbered, “Hey! Alright! I won’t kick her anymore” he hunched over, sulking much like a child. “I was just making sure she was alive. Stare at a plate without blinking for ten minutes and people worry” he grumbled.

Doing as told Ire slipped back down, looking rather guilty once again at her tendency to act brashly surfaced. “I’m sorry” she breathed timidly. “For the bread bun”. Her sight never left the suddenly interesting saltshaker in the middle of the table.

The hatted dwarf lent back, holding himself up with one arm, waving his free hand. “No problem lass, though I’m worried about your aim” he joked with a sly smile.

Ire gently placed her fingers on her cut cheek, “That would be the poison” she croaked softly.

“Poison?” Dwalin blinked at the words from the bronze haired woman next to him.

The table lent forwards, all interested once again about what happened to the huntress. “Yes poison. I’ll tell you tomorrow I swear” she dismissed much to the men’s disappointment.

They stayed out on the veranda for hours until it started to turn dark. The moon rose and the evening became cold, Ire retrieved her torn tatty cloak with the assistance of a kindly elf maiden. She wrapped it tightly around herself and re-joined the men that drank and laughed into the night. It was a nice distraction from her depressing thoughts before. Eventually the members of the Oakensheild party decided to call it a night.

Lord Elrond offered rooms to his guests to which the dwarves denied, but in a choice that was almost treason according to Thorin; Gandalf, Bilbo and Ire graciously accepted. The thought of an actual bed was all too tempting for the hobbit. The wizard made a comment about his old bones needing a bed, meanwhile Ire brazenly opted for the elven sheets. “Why would I refuse to sleep like a noble? Enjoy camping on the balcony” she curled her well hand in a cheeky goodbye, retiring to the room lent to her. The elves were kind enough to leave her pack in the room saving her the chore of carrying it back while injured. Forgetting all that she threw herself onto the ever so cloud like bed, sinking deep into the silken sheets. Ire found herself delving into a shallow revealing sleep, her sadness stained the pillow as her tears soaked in as she sobbed late into the night.

She found herself waking about half three if she were to guess, the sun not rising until half an hour later. Though in the meantime she wandered the empty halls finding a small balcony to sit on and study the sky above, or the best she could with a blurry eye. It was as the sun crept into the valley and the chill ached her joints Ire returned to her room, noting the view from the balcony was in fact a rare beauty. With the over boisterous nature of the dwarves, she decided that if undisturbed, she would use it as a refuge when the others became too overwhelming.

She didn’t have the will to climb back into bed and force herself to sleep, instead opting to write the letter she had thought of beforehand. It didn’t take long for her to raid the draws to find some spare parchment and ink and soon she found herself writing a letter to her siblings, or more than likely just Ira, as he never left home.

She started it as;

“ _Dear Ira and Irk,_

_It is I, your loving sister, writing to you after far too long a silence. I am fine, or so I was until the day just past, where I foolishly took it upon myself to slay a pack of orcs. I am alive and bruised, so fear not as the fear is with in me._

_For so long I have acted like a simple navigator for the men that have hired me I had forgotten the dangers of slaying the black tongues. Thanks to my current host and his people I survived and breath another day. Do not worry, I will not so carelessly throw myself into dangers way again unless better assessed or it is deemed necessary._

_I must tell you of the men I travel with! There is of course Gandalf the Grey, he is wise as he is old though his patience is thinner than expected. Then there are the lonely mountain dwarves. Irk, I specifically ask you if you remember our trips with father to the blue mountains and if you remember the dwarves we met there. It seems a handful of the party are those we met. The brothers that we played with, Fíli and Kíli, the troll tiddlers! They have grown of course, now young men. Fíli is cocky and self-assured, the arrogance he carries has forced my hand once, he also seems to have a fetish for concealing as many blades on his body as possible, I swear he pulled one from the depth of his draws the other week. Then Kíli, it is clear he is the youngest of all the dwarves, his immaturity seems to know no bounds and his beard has yet to grow past stubble, yet he can take orders without fault and take his mark with no issue- an archer like myself, though unlike myself he has never heard of a hairbrush. -”_

She couldn’t help but chuckle, her hair may have been a disaster with care, but the younger prince simply chose to neglect his. She found it easy to continue, her words sprawled with ease onto the page.

_“The most fanciful hair has to belong to the fussiest member, Dori. He braids it so tight and weaves it with ease, he has a stiffness that comes from trying to be an elitist- though in reality, I have found he is related to the royal line, though him and his brothers are illegitimate. Dori’s main focus is his youngest brother Ori. Ori is brave but not well suited to battle, instead he has the role of scribe, he documents everything. Dori acts like a mother hen, clucking away- he often scolds the middle brother Nori, whom it seems has rather sticky fingers. He Is quick, though I have caught him with other purses._

_Then there is Dwalin, he is the biggest, strongest, tallest- he was a guard in Erebor apparently and most certainly caught Nori in the act back then, there is a tension between them, I have found it quite interesting witnessing their interactions. Dwalin seems to be our leaders’ right hand, rather protective, following him like a guard dog. Dwalin has a brother also, Balin- the eldest of the pair. Balin reminds me of **Adad** , jolly and peaceful, though clear, much like with the eldest members has seen battle. He was there at Moria, more than likely fought alongside our father without knowing it. Balin is the democrat of the lot, speaking and acting like an ambassador when squabbles arise._

_Their cousins, whom also fought at Moria and have claim to the line of Durin, much as they do are Óin and Glóin, both notable warriors. Óin is half death and his age limits his abilities, instead he acts as a healer under circumstances, Glóin is just loud and assertive, he has a wife and son in the blue mountains, and he misses them each day, often he stares at his pocket locket with their likeness within, often he reminds us of his sons’ greatness and his wives’ beauty_.”

Ire curled a loose strand of hair around her finger as she thought about the final few members. The heavy use of her body and mind began to catch up on her as the motion of her quill began to slow.

“ _We then have Bifur, a strong warrior and very resilient; proven by the imbedded axe head lodged in his skull from a battle long past. It seems said axe has affected his speech, or should I say use of language. He is only able to talk in Khuzdul, thankfully everyone understands, or can at least translate for those who don’t. He, like a few others have yet to warm to me: unlike his cousins Bofur and Bombur. Bombur is a large dwarf, in width and not hight I’m afraid though his hair is bright like fire embers, strange as his kin both bare hair; so black I recall comparing it to jet. It seems this pair I met on my travels with **Adad** , though when I did, they were young miners covered in dust and grime from their hard labour. I didn’t recognise them initially, No, it was Bofur, whom recalled a rather embarrassing story, that knew of me first. From then out he has treated me like an old friend which I will admit has been welcomed having only Gandalf and Bilbo to keep me sane. He smiles so brightly, but I find his eyes do carry a weight_.”

She hummed to herself thinking of usually warm dwarf, her head lulled slightly as her body and eyelids grew heavy.

“ _I am forgetting, that may be all the dwarves, but you are probably wondering “Who on earth is this Bilbo?” and so I will tell- Bilbo Baggins is a halfling that Gandalf declared was to be our burglar. He is reserved and somewhat prudent but sensible and well versed. He often amuses me with riddles that I sometimes guess correct and I amuse him with retellings of my travels. He is a lovely hobbit, much more open minded then most_.”

A mighty yawn escaped her gaping mouth as she lowered her face to the desk. She placed the quill with clumsy fingers, her vison hazy and her eyes heavy and bruised closed. She cared not that she laid on a desk, in only her pyjamas and that the chill on her skin slowly being nibbled away by the rising sun as its warmth shone through the stain glass windows heating her room to a cosy temperature. Unable to sign off her letter she was lost to the waking world dreaming of her warm cosy home in Rohan, the smell of the smithy smoke wafting and the clanks of metal being sculpted rang and the vision of the horses galloping along the grassy fields kept her under deep and somewhat happy.

She wasn’t woken until the sun had risen high into the blue sky. Having fallen asleep on the letter to her siblings, her face rested on the pages where the ink had dried some time ago had left a mark on her cheek and jaw that laid on the desk.

It was late in the morning around quarter past ten did she sleep till, awoken by a light knock on the heavy wooden door.

Ire shot up like a pole, desperately reaching for something to protect herself. A panicked hand found the dried quill and held it in front much like one would a dagger, though in her sleep deprived mind it very well could have been.

A soft voice called through to her glazed mind, guiding her to the current reality. Realising the inky feather would be of no use she placed it down before tenderly finger combing her hair and straightening her tunic before opening the door.

There stood Bilbo, blinking, taking in her sorry state rather statically for a moment before raising a balled hand in front of his closed mouth, clearing his throat, "Morning, the others and I were begging to worry about you". He hooked his thumbs around his grass green suspenders and rocked on his large fuzzy feet.

With a croaky morning voice, she nodded her reply "R-right, morning. I didn't mean to cause worry. I didn't sleep... well" she added quickly when the hobbit raised a suspicious brow.

His eyebrows shifted from suspicious to worried to amused as a fruity chuckle left him. ( _The brow can give a lot away you know_ ). "You have something on your face" he pointed to his right cheek. Quickly she touched her own then to her fingers, confused when nothing showed on her pads. "It looks like writing; did you sleep on a wet book?" His merry chuckling continued for a minute more.

With a sigh and a rather harsh rubbing Ire gave up, feeling the burn on her cheek and the hobbits smile turn playful. "I was writing a letter. I must have fell asleep on it" she explained, unamused.

Bilbo grinned and shook his head at her "I think you'll need a bath to get that off" he tapped his sun kissed nose with a playful finger. "If you ask the Lord or his right hand, you'll get to see it- the baths I mean, they're incredible! The water is perfect, and the marble pillars have exquisite carvings-" the hobbit rambled on as Ire nodded along her focusing on the excitable notes from the hairy footed man before her. “All in all, I feel far better after having a long soak, the waters seem almost magical!” he beamed that faltered slightly when recalling, “Perhaps if you do go, maybe don’t tell the others, especially Thorin, he wasn’t best pleased when I mentioned having used it”. His eyes looked down. Bilbo noted how small Ire’s bare feet were and pondered how she stood with so little surface connecting her to the ground.

Ire crouched and held the hobbits shoulders with a slight squeeze, with a tired chuckled she flashed a small smile, “Then perhaps we should keep our favouritism of elves shtum Mr Baggins” she held a pale finger to her mouth.

Bilbo nodded sadly “That would be sensible-wait! Our?” his brown eyes widened, and his smile crept back. “Of course, you like them too. I guess you would have too after they helped heal you.” His hands crept behind his back under his rather tattered blazer before pulling out her fathers’ urn and the small pot she had handed to him the day prior. “Maybe this will help” He held the balm up and then the ashes “And I’m certain you would want this back. Sorry I did not return them sooner” a pang of guilt betrayed him as the woman removed herself from her balance on him.

Grateful, she took purchase of her fathers’ ashes once more, muttering an apology to the container. “Thank you, Bilbo! How I had not realised I had not reclaimed him- oh my mind is in such disarray” she sighed, clutching the vessel tight to her chest. “Forgive me, I am not myself. I do not mix well with grief. I either run from it or dwell too deeply” she sounded exhausted with herself. Returning into her borrowed room she set her fathers’ ashes on the windowsill of the last homely home.

Bilbo followed her in with the woodland jar in an attempt to return it also, he witnessed the silent tears run down her cheeks as she sunk to the floor in a huddle. She was truly not the keen, merry huntress he had been travelling.

Emotions were not Bilbo’s forte, having struggled with reading them his entire life. Where he developed this stunt was unknown to him, whether it was his head held high as a child or perhaps his lack of interaction with young hobbit boys and girls when he was one also. All he knew was he preferred his own company, with his books and stories and keeping his day-to-day routine. But what did that matter as the only female friend he had somehow gained sat so sorrowful. Taking a breath, the hobbit summoned as much empathy as he could as he took a seat next to her on the cold floor. “You know, it is normal to feel like this”. He offered, fiddling with the pot in his hands. “It may seem impossible now and it must hurt so much-” he glanced to her hair framed face as the river of tears continued, “-so, so very much. But in time the feeling will shrink, and you’ll pick yourself up again”. He rubbed his knee and wiggled his nose in thought. “Until then you have us, the company to pick you up” he nudged her with a small smile. “Why don’t we go find somewhere for you to wash your face?”

Ire sniffed, wiping her nose on her sleeve and her eyes with her bandaged hand, “Maybe I’ll just use the magical elven bath?” she choked a laugh. Bilbo held the small jar to her once again, but she shook her head, her fine hand gently pushing the pot back to the hobbit. “Keep it” she whispered with an exhausted smile. “I do hope this ink comes off, Fíli and Kíli will never let it go” she clambered up and held a hand to Bilbo to help pull him up. “Thank you”.

The halfling took the small hand “For what?” he mused, flapping his blazer into place.

Said hand sat on his curly locks and ruffled with care, “For talking to me. Your words are wiser than you know” she giggled lightly as his face scrunched up at her gesture.

He chuckled along “Well I’m not sure wise is the right word, but thanks. Come on! Grab your soap and a drying cloth! The water is calling your name!” he cheered practically skipping to the open doorway.

She gathered said items thanking all that is mighty for the burglar wise beyond his years; Noted, she would thank Gandalf for his requisition of the hobbit. Having collected her toiletries she followed Bilbo through the never-ending corridors of the last homely home of the west until she stood before the carved pillars of which Bilbo spoke of so fondly earlier. It seemed Lindir- Elrond’s right hand was on his way past when the hobbit spotted him with an excited smile. Ire recognised him as the man that stood by Elrond at dinner the night before. After a weak request from the huntress, Lindir agreed she may use the baths, explaining their way of water usage before gliding away ( _having given her quizzical glances, curious about the mess on her face_ ).

The hobbit bounced in his place as he rushed his explanation before the elf to be out of ear shot, ( _Bilbo planned to follow him back to Wizard, Lord and not quite King under the mountain_ ), “Take your time, I’ll be with Gandalf. He was chatting with Lord Elrond and Thorin when I saw them last. I’ll come find you if you don’t find me”. And so, with a wave of his hand he left her to cleanse at her own leisure.

The water flowed gently. Lindir had explained the purest of steams ran though _Imladris_ (Rivendell) and the use of aqueducts helped direct where it trickled, the heaviest flow to the bath house, another to the kitchens and infirmary, to the sinks really. The lesser stream watered their gardens while the strong helped with the plumbing.

It was clear and cool. Refreshing and Revitalising. Ire could feel what Bilbo meant; the water was indeed magical. With some heavy scrubbing her reversed words ran from her skin. Her hair twisted in bronze tendrils that ebbed away, spreading out in the enchanted waters as she sunk beneath the silvery surface and there she stayed, reminiscing once again, though this time, deeper thought upon her travelling companions. Starting with Bilbo’s fancy for the baths she was submerged in. Ire could appreciate everything the hobbit had rambled on about earlier that morning. The carvings in the marble and wooden features were truly intricate and wonderful and the colourful mosaic tiles she sat upon made such a beautiful rendition of the night sky, credible to the last constellation. Seconds of studying turned into a minute, then two, then as the seconds ticked on, she found herself unable to stay under any longer. Thrusting to the surface, she felt her lungs burn and her throat tightened much like the constructive feeling of a maiden’s corset. Breaking the water, she gasped for air, throwing her hair behind her in order not to choke on the sodden strands. The mop collided with her back; a loud slap echoed though the baths. She paused for a moment, wiping the water from her eyes with her better hand, having her left- the worse one still best she could having removed the dressing in order to splash in elven water. Ire bounced back to the edge of the bath still with a deep dig of the water to pull herself over quicker. When she reached her goal, her elbows rested over the stone as she turned to face back into the depths, attempting to make out the mosaic bellow through the disturbed ripples. Eventually she took to lathering up a bar of soap for her heavy hair. “Damn its coarse tangled nature!” she growled running the bubbles through with effort as her fingers tangled in the strands.

It was then she thought of the dwarves she travelled with, mostly Kíli and his unruly locks, at least he had his brother and uncle to help him tame it. To her, it was a mystery how dwarves kept their hair manageable, yes, they took pride in it, especially the beards- but alas or luckily, she knew not, but she did know she was beardless. Not that it bothered her, the hair on her head was monstrous enough to maintain. Maybe she would ask them what they did next time she saw them. A chuckled left her as she thought of the men’s grooming habit, from their personal brushes and combs to the beads braided, maybe there was a lotion they used when they washed up. Even if they did, she wouldn’t know, having never been in the same body of water as the same time.

Her gentle finger massaged the bubbles into her scalp, ridding the dirt and sweat that would have collected there over the past week. The healer had done a good job fixing her wounds, but cleaning her off, well that was her job, which she would rather keep to herself. The healer! She had yet to go visit the healer. With a groan she rinsed herself off with haste the same level of pacing she used to “dry” and dress herself; Ire took off from the baths with the best run she could manage, her leg still aching, even with the added relief from the ointment slathered on the damaged flesh. It seems running, or should one call it limping, like you arse is on fire is a good way to attract attention, elves and dwarfs alike stared as she hobbled along.

It was Glóin who called after her, worried he and the others may need to take up arms, “What’s happening lass?!”.

Ire span around for but a moment “I’m late!” she answered before facing forwards again. She was undisturbed for the rest of her short journey. Finally skidding to a holt at the infirmary once more.

The healer (who had been adding a paste to an elf child’s knees) examined the panting half dwarf with a raised brow. Shaking his head, he continued his work of the child “ ~~ _You seem well_~~ ” he chuckled, tapping the little elf’s nose dismissing them with a kind smile. Catching her breath Ire apologised, making sure to step aside for the child as they eyed her up stepping past cautiously. The healer held his hands behind his back as he glided to his desk. “ ~~ _Your hair is dripping, someone may slip_~~ ”.

With a frustrated huff she gathered it up and threw it over a shoulder, once again a wet slap rung out, though more muted by the once dry clothing. “ ~~ _It is impossible, usually I would have platted it but in my hurry, I forgot about that_~~ ”. Ire could feel herself become irrationally annoyed at the daft comment against her hair.

The healer turned and retrieved a towel from the shelves, “ ~~ _Why the hurry? We have the whole day do we not? I assume you would wish to be with your… friends_~~ ” he hummed as he came over to place the towel on her head.

Her right hand replaced his as she patted her hair with the clothe. “ _ ~~I overslept~~ … I ~~had trouble going to sleep~~_ ”.

He chuckled taking a seat. “ ~~ _Pain or other things?_~~ ” his brown hair slipping over his shoulder.

Slowly she pulled the moist clothe from her head, revealing long damp locks that seemed to curl in every direction. " ~~ _Not physical no. I have come across some misfortune recently and its consequence. It shakes me to the core_~~." The huntress made her way into the infirmary to sit on the bed she had resided on the previous day. "That matters not; time will heal these wounds as it has before".

The healer chose not to comment further instead taking the towel, disposing of it in a large woven basket. " ~~ _Of course. Shall we sort you some new bandages? How does everything feel today_~~?" He moved to the cabinet, searching for what was needed.

Ire nodded " ~~ _Much! My left hand seems a little stiff and my leg still aches but only when I'm moving around now. The eye is still blurry_~~ " she pulled her trousers down to her knees to show off her healing bite mark.

" _ ~~Ah, you should be right as rain in a couple of days~~_ " he hummed, arms full of bandages and salves. " ~~ _Perhaps sooner if you stop running around like a child_~~ ". Ire attempted to protest but was hushed by the soft laughter of the elf now kneeling before her. "No use telling me otherwise. I saw you coming through the window".

The half dwarf groaned, a light blush on her cheeks. " ~~ _I felt rude being late_~~ " she muttered covering her face with her arm.

The healer once again tended her wounds, deeming her ready for the day if she behaved and respected her bodies need for rest. " ~~ _You are free unless you wanted to 'learn'? Academic study you said_~~?" He mocked.

She stood, lips pulled to the side while her brow low, " ~~That would depend on what you are teaching- yes, I would like to learn from you if you are okay with a shadow~~ ". Her hand pulling the hair from her face.

He pointed to a jar filled with dry leaves " ~~ _If my shadow can hold things, then certainly. May you pass me the lavender_~~?" He asked measuring some other herbs into a bowl already.

Ire obliged, reaching for the pot " ~~ _So what is this for_~~?" She asked curiously.

Once again, the elf chuckled- a cheery elf indeed, " _ ~~Tea. I am thirsty~~_ " he replied with a wide grin.

And so, Ire spent a few hours learning a few easy herbal remedies and the addition of the trickier paste that had been placed on the cut on her cheek the day before. It was gone well gone midday when Bilbo finally found her just like he promised, though was less then pleased she had run off without much direction in where she was going. Glóin was no help except pointing down the correct corridor.

With a scoff and tapping from his foot, the hobbit greeted the huntress for the second time that day. "So, this is where you've been" he wiggled his nose, a partially frustrated glare emitting from his deep brown eyes.

With an apologetic chuckle, Ire held up her hands in surrender to the hobbit, “it seems I got distracted, though, this was a commitment I had promised myself too yesterday. But yes, sorry I did not let you know I would be here. Was the meeting of any interest?” she cocked her head, having lowered her hands to twist the hem of she tunic.

Bilbo soon gave up his vexed façade. “At least you’re well, you had us worried... it was interesting to some, quite bothersome to others. Mainly Thorin and Lord Elrond asking questions and answering in the same manner. I’ll tell you more over some lunch- you must be hungry?” he grinned, grasping his suspenders with a sudden upbeat way that was only emitted by the hobbit when food or good news were about.

The half dwarf nodded, stomach soon reminding her of the basic need to eat. She said her thanks to the healer whom requested she return the next day for treatment of her leg. Ire agreed and was quickly whisked away by Bilbo, regaling her with the topics discussed by the dwarven and elven leaders. Shortly the pair found themselves back on the rather quiet veranda, much the contrast from the evening the before.

A shallow sigh left Ire’s lips; this grasped the hobbits attention. “Is it wrong of me to enjoy the quiet?” she smiled, looking to Bilbo with a content face.

The halfling shook his head a similar expression painted his features “No. I have found the quiet moments rather relaxing. Our company seems to enjoy noise.” Bilbo’s lips twisted as conflict shone across his eyes, “Not saying that that is a bad thing, but they can be rather loud and rambunctious and a hobbit like myself would never normally become involved in such rough housing” he quickly blubbered.

Ire placed a gentle hand on Bilbo’s shoulder, “All things should be endured with moderation” she gave a slight squeeze before releasing the nodding hobbit.

Said nodding hobbit excitedly exclaimed “Exactly!” eager to have his word in about the topic, but before the hobbit could say anything else a loud voice bellowed behind them.

“Where did you two disappear too?” It was Fíli.

A snigger quickly followed “By how close they are, I think a romance has blossomed between them” Kíli cackled.

Bilbo had jumped at the blonde prince’s rude interruption, yet Ire bit her tongue refusing to let her irritated groan to be heard by the two wind ups ahead of them as they span around to see the brothers. Fíli tapped his chin “How would that even work? He’s so small and she’s so big-”

Just as his sentence ended a boot flew at him, colliding with his gut causing the blonde to make a strangled noise of shock. “I am giving you five seconds to leave or I’m aiming for those big heads of yours. It won’t be so hard to miss with how inflated they are” she growled, attempting to slip the other boot free.

Kíli snorted “I thought you can’t aim?” and bang! The heel of her boot just missed Kíli’s head and collided with one of the beams behind the brothers. “See! Can’t aim!” he pointed with a childish grin.

Fíli shook his head, picking up the boot that had hit him “Not that bad Kí, she nearly had your head” the blonde held it for a moment, feeling its weight- far lighter than he anticipated. Honestly smaller than he thought it would have been. The huntress was far daintier than he realised. And without warning, he threw the boot with all his might, calling a quick “Catch!” back to Ire, whom ducked.

The boot sailed far past the huntress and thief and over the edge of the veranda, down into the river waters that ran out into the grey mountains. Ire scrambled over the edge to watch her boot disappear into the depths. Silence fell upon the four beings, each unsure what to say. Ire broke the silence, “You owe me a new pair of boots”. 

**Author's Note:**

> Well that was something. I admit, this is my first serious fanfic that I've written for years- like 8, I think.  
> I recently started watching the Hobbit trilogy on repeat and decided I would rewrite the story with a main female character into the Oakensheild party because dang did Tolkien near exclude women.  
> I know Tauriel was added to the films, but for me; she isn't enough. So I gift the world my Female OC insert that I hope strikes better with folks the Jackson's OC elf insert did.  
> I swear I'm trying to make Ire a strong independent woman, but not Mary-Sue her cause one of my biggest pet peeves is a Mary-Sue. I also can't stand lead woman being timid and passive. The plan is to reveal her history in droplets as the chapters continue, rather then bamboozle you with it in one large dump. I hope she is as entertaining for you to read as she is for me to write.
> 
> This is a self-indulgent fiction, but I wanted to post it on here just because I could. 
> 
> Last thing, I would like to thank my friends that Beta-ed for me, you know who you are and to you dear readers for reading.


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